Ellen SullivanWife of William S. KellyMother of Lucy and Mary KellyTaken Before Her Death in 1883Photo Courtesy of Andrew Jackson"My grandmother" was written on the photo by Lucy's eldest daughter, Genevieve Fulton.

The Kellys Go West

Prepared by Bob Sweeney

December 2008

Bob Sweeney is the great grandson of Daniel and Mary Leahy Kelly who came from Ireland to Kelly Hill in the middle
1800s.Daniel, four of his brothers, one
sister, and their aging father all emigrated over the course of perhaps 15
years.They eventually settled, built
homes and operated farms and other rural enterprises in or near Campbellville and Overton, Pennsylvania.These two communities lie next to each other
on the border of Sullivan and BradfordCounties in northern Pennsylvania.

The story told here presents a
handwritten set of memoirs prepared in the 1930s by Ellen (“Nellie”) Kelly
Bradley (1856-1945).The daughter of
James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, she was the niece of Edward Kelly’s great
grandparents, and therefore would have been Edward’s third cousin, once removed.Nellie Kelly’s mother, Johanna Flynn before
marriage to James Kelly, was also Mary Ann Leahy Kelly’s aunt and also her
sister-in-law, having married the older brother (James) of Mary Ann’s husband
(Daniel).Kelly, Leahy and Flynn were
entwined by descent and marriage much more closely than the typical group of
settler families in the 19th century. The amazing story presented here came about due to the
unfortunate death of Ellen (Sullivan) Kelly **, whose picture is presented at the head of this page.
The wife of Nellie's brother, William S. Kelly, she died in Colorado, where that Kelly family had gone to make their fortunes in 1880.
When she died, William, known to his family and friends as "Will", was left with two
orphans, Lucy and Mary, and turned to his sister Nellie back in Pennsylvania for help. The rest
is told in the following tale.

** Editor's Note: It has been speculated that Ellen Sullivan may have been a daughter of James and Hanora (Kelly) Sullivan, which would have meant she was married to her first cousin. While such marriages were not unobserved in Sullivan County in the 19th century, it would ahve been quite unusual if not beyond belief for first cousins in a devout Irish Catholic family to have so interrelated. Here is a commentary by Edward Kelly, provided in April 2009, on the matter:

John ("Yankee John") Sullivan of County Kerry, Ireland came to the United States in 1836 and lived first in western New York State where he peddled Yankee notions and earned his nickname. His wife was Mary Monahan of County Cork. The Sullivans came to Overton, PA in 1858 and moved to their nearby farm three years later. John died in 1877 at age 62; Mary died in 1876 at age 61. Their children were: Katherine (Mrs. John Callahan); Maggie (Margaret); Mary (Mrs. Thomas Coggins); John; Ellen; and Cornelius. Maggie and Cornelius as adults lived together in Towanda, PA. Presumably, neither Cornelius nor Maggie was married. Their brother, John, was a teacher and taught in Overton, PA in 1869-70. Their sister, Ellen, taught also in Overton, PA in 1874. Mary Kelly, daughter of James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, taught also in Overton, PA in 1872-73.

It is my hypothesis that it is this Ellen Sullivan who married William S. Kelly and that William's sister, Mary, may have arranged the match! I realize that a hypothesis is not a fact but offer this information as a research aid.

I continue to believe that William S. Kelly's first wife, Ellen Sullivan, would not have been the Ellen Sullivan who was the daughter of James and Hanora Kelly Sullivan because this second Ellen Sullivan and William S. Kelly were first cousins.

I do not know whether John ("Yankee John") Sullivan was related to James Sullivan, but I assume that there may be a relationship.

We are also deeply grateful to Edward
Kelly for obtaining and providing both these original documents and many of
the comments provided below.Ed
obtained them from a third cousin, Bernadette (Kelly) Tapella
of Sunnyvale, California.Bernadette is
the granddaughter of James T. Kelly who was the first cousin of Nellie (Kelly)
Bradley, the protagonist of our story.Bernadette Kelly Tapella
obtained the typed version of the story from Mary E. Falkenreck,
a granddaughter of Nellie who still lived in Spokane in 2008, as an elderly woman in her
80’s.

The typed version reproduced here contains an
introductory paragraph and final paragraph clearly written by someone else,
perhaps the unknown individual who typed Nellie’s words up from the handwritten
original.We have also provided
annotations in brackets courtesy of Ed Kelly, so as to clarify relationships,
historical facts and other relevant information.He has
also given us a partial genealogy for Nellie, her parents and her children,
which can be found at the end of this narrative. Finally, Ed has offered a note at the end of the annotations section.

You may also want to consult other sources on the Kelly family. Here are six compelling sources:

You can also access a wealth of information about the history of Sullivan County, including additional information about the Kellys and the families with whome they intermarried and interacted, at the Sullivan County Genealogical Web Page.

With no further adieu, let us
now go back to hear from Nellie Kelly about a time long past when Pennsylvania
was being civilized and the Far West beckoned to men and women of resilience,
courage and ambition.

***********************************************

GRANDMA
BRADLEY’S LIFE STORY (53)

(From her own notes)

Nellie Kelly Bradley- 1856-1945

In 1883, a
young lady named Nellie Kelly left her home in Pennsylvania for the far West.Two weeks previously she had returned from Fall River, Massachusetts,
where she had been visiting relatives.A
letter had arrived from a brother in Grand
Junction, Colorado,
bearing the heartbreaking news of the death of his fine wife, the loving mother
of his two little girls.He begged his
sister to come and take care of his motherless babies, Lucy a year and a half *,
and Mary not yet three.This event
changed the course of her life, for Nellie could not resist the plea of her
brother.It was against the advice of
friends and relatives that she started on her long journey to assume her new
charge in a distant and unknown part of the country.April 6th brought her to her
destination.* Editor's Note: We now know from documentation provided by Andrew Jackson that Lucy was actually born in Leadville, Colorado on August 23, 1881. Here is Lucy Kelly's Baptismal Certificate.

(The
story continues in Grandma’s own words)

Now I will
tell you something of my early life in Pennsylvania.My father, James Kelly [1], came
to this country from County Cork,
Ireland, in
1842.He was the first of his family in
this faraway new country. He worked for a Mrs. Green who owned a large piece of
land called Green’s settlement [2], not far from Dushore, Pennsylvania.My father was an ambitious young man and was
eager to have a home of his own.Soon he
bought several acres of land for himself, paying for it in work.On one of his vacation trips to Towanda where
he had some friends, among whom was William Flynn, he
met Johanna Flynn [3], William’s sister.The meeting proved to be love at first
sight.They arranged to be married in a
few weeks when the priest would be coming through.It would be four months before a priest would
come again and my father would not wait that long, so anxious was he to begin
their home.Miss Flynn had come to America from Limerick near Cashel, Ireland [4], with her
mother, three sisters and two brothers.Her grandmother Twohy [5] was my
father’s mother’s first cousin.

When in the
early ‘40’s my grandfather Kelly came from Ireland
with father’s three brothers to join my father in Pennsylvania [6], they settled in
a place called Campbellsville [sic throughout original, but henceforth spelled
correctly as Campbellville in this text], Sullivan
County, PA.Here they bought several
hundred acres known as the Sarah Ames Keene tract.Thus the families of my grandfather’s four
sons grew up close together in the environs of Dushore
and Campbellville,
Pennsylvania.

No, my dear
children, as you have so often begged me to tell you stories of my childhood
days in good old Pennsylvania, I will write down some my earliest
memories.Your mother was born in 1856
into an environment where sturdy Irish, German and English settlers worked hard
to clear the forests and to build homes, churches, and schools.They were happy in building for the future,
that their children and grandchildren might enjoy the fruits of their labor.

My earliest
recollections are of happy, care-free childhood days.I was the youngest of a family of six, and I loved
the days when my dear mother hurried about the kitchen preparing dinner for a
“logging bee” or a neighborhood gathering for husking corn.Some evenings the relatives and neighbors
came for an “apple-paring bee”.On these
occasions, after a couple of hours’ work preparing the apples for winter
storage, they would all enjoy a pleasant evening of song and story-telling with
their cider and doughnuts.There were
excellent singers in the group and my mother’s voice was one of the
sweetest.I can still hear her singing
“Believe me if all these endearing young charms” and other songs popular at the
time.

My school
days were very happy indeed, especially in the 7th and 8th
grades, when I slipped gaily over the snow with my brother, Will, who helped me
on the icy places down the long hill to the little schoolhouse in the
valley.It stood near the flour
mill.All the farmers around took their
wheat for the flour they needed.The
wheat was ground by the old fashioned millstones.A few privileged ones loved to go in and
watch the grain come down into the big hopper and then down between the big old
stones which made it fine while the coarse part sifted out.Next we passed the big mill pond formed by
some creeks flooding into it.This mad a
fine rink for skating when the ice was smooth.The first few inches of snow were soon tracked down and we played games
and danced.Yes, the old-fashioned
square dances which someone knew how to call.I think we enjoyed them as much as the big parties in after years.So much so that the big pupils from the
school on the other hill who came at noon to the Post Office, seeing us, became
so interested that they begged us to let them join in our fun.It wasn’t long until they were down every
day.They soon began having dancing
parties with their friends and the Methodist ban against dancing was removed by
the will of an overwhelming majority.

In due time I finished the grades.For the few who would be teachers there was a
five weeks’ Teachers’ Institute in the early fall to prepare for a teacher’s
certificate.However, I was privileged
to have an extra year of preparation for teaching as my parents sent me to a
convent boarding school, St. Joseph’s Academy [7],
Binghamton, New York. Then after my session of Teachers’
Institute, I taught school for two years.Mothers’ help in the home being unsatisfactory, she asked me to stay
home until my brother got married.In
the meantime my two elder sisters had each taught for a few years.Mary, the eldest, married and Johanna, the
next, joined the Sisters of St. Joseph and became Sister Mary Evangelist [8].Johanna had been in boarding school with
these sisters in Binghamton,
N. Y. In those days we did not hear much about vocations; I thought it enough
to want to enter.I was so lonesome for
Johanna who had always been so good to her little sister that I decided to join
her.I bade my father and mother goodbye
– for life, as I thought.That summer I
was outdoors in the beautiful grounds a good deal, as my charge was to water the
flowers in and around the lovely grotto of Our Lady.The months passed and I was very happy in my
convent home.

September
was very hot that year and it was necessary for me to take my place in the
classroom as there were not enough sisters.It was not long until my health began to fail.The doctor said being indoors all the time
did not agree with me.In a few months
more I was so much worse that Mother called me to her office and told me kindly
that I had tried but that was not my place and that there was something for me
to do in the world.She could not tell
me what it was, but I would find it.It
was an awful shock to me, but there was nothing to do but go home. [9]
So, I did, and I took care of my dear mother who was on her death bed.Mother said that God had sent me as my sister
Mary had too much to do.The doctor said
it would not help me to be in a sick room, but my mother was so patient and
required so little waiting on that I was able to take care of her until her
peaceful, happy death three months later.She died on Washington’s birthday, 1882 [10].As her Requiem Mass was sung I felt much
better.I knew that she was praying for
me.

The doctor
had ordered a long walk each day and this I took, and improved so much that two
months later I took care of my sister through a very serious illness.All that summer I helped her with her little
children.In the early Fall my dear
father said I should have a rest and insisted on my going to Massachusetts [11] to visit my
mother’s people.There was an excursion
going and I intended to return with it.My cousins begged that I stay for their daughter’s wedding the next
month.It was to be a big affair.Then they wanted me to stay all winter,
especially as there was a good opportunity to learn the millinery business, for
which I always had a liking.As I didn’t
want to teach again, it would be nice to go later to my single brother in Pueblo, Colorado.He wanted me to come and stay with him.So it was settled that I work in the shop for
the winter and spring seasons.It was a
pleasant millinery store and the head milliner said that I could soon operate a
store of my own.

Man
proposes but God disposes – for on February 20th I received a letter
which changed all my plans.It was the
heartbroken message from my married brother Will of the death of his wife [12].He had gone the year before with his young
wife and his two babies in the rush to Leadville,
Colorado [13], only to
find in a few months everything closed down.Consequently he went with the first white settlers into the GrandValley
where the Ute Reservation was just opened for settlement.He built his log cabin and then sent for his
little family.It was all so nice and
happy for them until his wife got sick and died suddenly, leaving him
heartbroken with his two little girls, Lucy, a year and a half * and Mary,
three.Will begged me to come and take
care of his motherless little ones.Thus
was my whole life changed and I knew that this was what God wanted of me.Even my sister in the convent, Sister
Evangelist, wrote me to have our brother bring his children back to
civilization.This I knew he could not
do, being settled there.* Editor's Note: We now know from documentation provided by Andrew Jackson that Lucy was actually born in Leadville, Colorado on August 23, 1881. Here is Lucy Kelly's Baptismal Certificate.

From
1883 to 1887

So I
decided to go to my brother Will’s as soon as possible.On the evening of February 22 [14],
the first anniversary of my dear Mother’s death, my friends and relatives
accompanied me to the big New York
boat called “The Floating Palace”.I was
on my way home for a short visit – then on to Colorado.Knowing that I would be sailing over the Sound just a year after that
night I spent with my dying Mother I arranged for a Mass to be offered that
morning.On my arrival home I found two
of my sister’s children with the measles.There was an epidemic that winter of a form of measles that took many
lives.Whole families had been wiped
out.At once I knew it was my duty to
help my sister until the danger was over.With trust in God and making use of our Mother’s old-fashioned remedies
the six children recovered.On March 22nd
I set out on the long journey to my new home in the West [15].

Many sweet
memories of my childhood days in dear old Pennsylvania went with me.Never to be forgotten were they.I recalled the times that Uncle Michael’s
family and ours were tucked into a big sleigh with woolen quilts and heated
stove wood to keep us from freezing for the three-mile drive behind an oxen
team to Midnight Mass [22].The little church was close to our Aunt Catherine’s home.It was heavenly to see the Altar and all the
church decorated with evergreens.Aunt
Catherine saw to the decorations.In the
summer my cousins gathered wild flowers but now there were the bright paper
stars which they had made.It was not a
surprise when in later years a son and three daughters of Aunt Catherine’s offered themselves to work in the Master’s
Vineyard [23].

On arriving
in Pueblo, Colorado, at 2:00 p.m. on March 25 [16],
which was Easter that year, I was met by my brother Michael James.I had not seen “Jim” for nearly fifteen years
[25]. He had been thrown from his horse when he was young and the
internal injuries resulting brought him to death’s door [24].A noted physician in Philadelphia was consulted but nothing could
be done.My father asked the Sisters of
Mercy in Towanda to send to France
for some water from Lourdes.My father made two sixteen-mile trips to see
if it had come.The Sisters promised to
send it immediately on its receipt.I
shall never forget the thrill we had when my sister Mary announced at five
o’clock in the morning that the water from Lourdes had arrived.We all prayed at Jim’s bedside while Mother
put a spoonful in his mouth while made the sign of the Cross on his side.The pain subsided and he fell asleep.At nine o’clock the next morning Jim came
walking down the stairs for the first time in three months.We all thanked our Blessed Mother for his
cure.Eagerly he went out to work in the
harvest fields.Some time later he fell
from the roof of the barn.His health
being impaired my father thought it well for him to go to the West [27].

But to return to my arrival.I hardly recognized Jim as he had changed so much in the years.Of course I had changed a great deal
too.It was a happy meeting.Jim insisted that I stay with him for at
least ten days.He thought I should rest
before going to my destination.On April
4th I was on my way to GrandValley [17].I felt fine until we crossed the high RockyMountain
range, when I became so ill I could not hold up my head.My train arrived at Grand Junction several hours late.My brother Will had
to go home to the babies whom he had left with a kind woman.He left word for the owner of the hotel to
meet me.His wife had offered to keep me
until my brother would come in the morning.I was soon resting comfortably and in the morning of the 6th
of April, 1883, I looked out from my window on the second floor.The hotel was the only building with two
floors.The sun was shining brightly on
the white adobe soil dotted with greasewood and sagebrush.The streets were laid out for the town and
graded.Water was running in the ditches
along the streets and there had been shade trees planted.These were mostly cottonwood.The stores and law offices as well as real
estate offices were tents.The Post
Office was a log cabin with flagstone for flooring.

Will came early.He was so
glad that I had come.As he had to stop
at the blacksmith’s on the way home he took me to the smithy’s house to meet
his wife, a kind German woman.Before
she was married she had lived on the next ranch with her brother.She insisted on our staying for dinner.Finally we got off and rode for two hours in
a farm wagon.I was glad it had a spring
seat.Through the Valley we went and
then through desert land, with here and there a little log cabin, which I
thought were sheep pens.Presently Will said, “Now we can see my house”.I saw only what I thought was a little larger
pen.Will drove up, helped me out, and
went in with me to meet the woman who was taking care of the children.Little Mary and baby Lucy were darlings.They were a bit shy at first but soon became
very fond of their Aunt Nellie, who loved them and cared for them as if they
were her own.

That
evening when Will set out to put the team away I
looked around at the bare log walls and began to cry.Mrs. Ross, the woman in charge, said, “What
would Mr. Kelly do now after all his sorrow if he saw that you are not
satisfied and grieving?” I said, “He will never see me cry”, and he didn’t.This was the beginning of a new life in
different surroundings and conditions than I had ever known.The food consisted mostly of dried fruits,
pork salt side, potatoes and flour.The
bachelors made biscuits.I made light
bread.Butter was so expensive and
scarce that we made gravy from the fried pork.This we called “Colorado Butter”.You can imagine the change, coming from a farm home where we had plenty
of butter, milk, cream, eggs and fresh fruits.But that was not thought of then – only of making the little home more
comfortable and attractive.Sheets of
canvas were sewed together for the walls and pretty ruffled curtains for the
windows and the stove shined.The latter
was very important to Will Carleton’s “Out of the Old House Nancy”.This room was parlor, kitchen and bedroom.Will had built a bedroom for me.

Mike
Corcoran [18], our brother-in-law, came in the Fall.He stayed with Will until his family, my
sister and their children [26], came in the Spring [19].Mike brought some mill-end prints from Massachusetts and since
Will had the sewing machine from our dear old home I was kept so busy that
there was no time for lonesomeness.Making pretty little dresses and sunbonnets for Mary and Lucy was a
delightful pastime, and their lovely complexions were protected from the sun.It was a pleasant surprise to find them so
fair.Our teacher in Binghamton had complimented us on our
complexions saying that the girls in the South and in the West had such dark
skin.

The most
important need of the time was water to irrigate the land so that crops could
be raised.This was the chief topic of
conversation among the settlers.At this
time what they called the “high line ditch” was under construction by a big
company.The water was taken from the
river several miles above or east of Grand
Junction.The
ditch was to be 40 miles long and 60 feet wide on top, 3 feet deep and 40 feet
wide at the bottom.It was a big work
and several of the ranchmen had contracts for a mile each.They were to be paid half cash and half in
groceries and feed for the teams.Eventually, the latter was all they got as the company failed.At the time of my arrival Will and a partner
were working on a mile contract and L. H. Bradley was working on his mile
contract with men and teams.The evening
I came Will drove around by Mr. Bradley’s place to speak with him about the
ditch.Will went to the door and when he
returned I said, “God pity the woman who lives in that lonely cabin!”Will laughed and said, “He is not married and
he is one of the finest young men in the valley.”I did not meet Mr. Bradley for over two
months.It seemed that when he finished
his contract, sold his team and paid the men he didn’t get a dollar for his work.He used his own money to prove up his
ranch.This took a few weeks and very
day he went to town on his nice little riding pony.Will asked him to bring our mail, which he
did as a neighborly act.That is how I
got acquainted with your father-to-be.His ranch joined Will’s on the east.

I mentioned
that water was the greatest need, and so it was, for our bodily wants, food and
living.Nothing grew in that arid region
without it.And all that time our souls,
our higher selves, were starving for the life of Grace which is nourished by
Holy Mass and the Sacraments.You may know
then how happy we were when in July His Lordship, the Venerable Bishop of
Denver, brought us a young French priest, Reverend Father Servant, to be our
Pastor.Father Servant had several other
missions to tend from Montrose up in the mountains to Fruita
down in the Valley.At first we had a
small house for our Church.Then the
Mission Society built a nice little Church and we had Mass on the first, second
or third Sunday.Will and I took turns
at first riding on horseback to Mass as one had to stay with the children.Lucy was too delicate to ride eight miles in
a jolting lumber wagon.Once I was a
little late for confession.Father was
beginning to vest for Mass when I went up and knelt at the communion rail.He came over and heard my confession in full
view of the parishioners who were coming in but I didn’t mind it, so thankful
was I for the great privilege of receiving the Sacraments, of which we had been
deprived for so long.

The year before, Will with several of his neighbors, had built a ditch
large enough to cover their ranches along the river.They named I the “Independent Ranchmens’ Ditch”.The next year other settlers came and got ranches north and east of
them.They had no water for their land,
so they began negotiating with former settlers to join them in taking out a new
ditch several miles farther up the river.The first settlers had several meetings as to the conditions for
admitting these new people.One leader
who had been a school teacher in Wet
Mountain Valley, Missouri,
wrote out a long contract with all the “whereases and
wherefores, of the aforesaid parties”, etc. and they couldn’t agree on
anything.Then a small group of men got
together and asked Lew Bradley to write a contract which would be to the
advantage of all concerned.He wrote a
plain, simple one to the point.The new
neighbors agreed to pay the old company $100 cash for the work done on their
independent ditch and fifteen days’ work each for both parties to build their
own ditch.Everyone thought that was the
most reasonable agreement, and all were satisfied.

In the
latter part of the summer of 1883 Lew Bradley proved up his ranch.He was the first one in the Valley to do so
but could get only a Receiver’s receipt as they didn’t have the Deeds ready.In the meantime, Lew (your father) and I
became good friends.My brother Will encouraged him to come.One evening I had an errand to a neighbor’s and he went with me.It was a beautiful evening and on the way
home he stopped, and taking my hand said he wanted me always, that he loved me
and would take care of me.I said, “No,
Lew, if you feel that way, we must quit right now for you are not of my Faith
and I could never marry out of the Church.”He answered that I could do as I pleased about going to Church but that
he could not join it.I told him that I
appreciated his frankness but that it would be impossible on my part and that
he should not come any more, and that he must forget about it.He did neither, yet I hoped he would be a
Catholic.I was sure he would be if he
could see it rightly.The next day Will
said that he saw two tracks in the sand, one a No. 4 shoe and the other a laced
boot, and he laughed.I said “What do
you think of Lew?”He said there was no
one in the valley he would rather have me go with if he were a Catholic.I said, “Don’t you think he may be one some
day?”He said, “No.”Lew Bradley was the best neighbor he had when
Ella died.

Mike
Corcoran, my sister Mary’s husband, stayed all winter.He helped Will get fence posts and rails to
build a fence around his ranch.Will,
you know, sold our old home to Mike and Mary the year before Mother died, with
the provisions that our parents would make their home there with all their
needs taken care of, medical and otherwise, allowing them money for their
personal use [20].Our dear
Mother did not live to use the money.I
told Mike what my friend Lew told me of his family.The Bradleys were
pioneers in Iowa.His grandfather had nine sons, nearly all of
whom had received a college education, for their father was well to do in those
days before the War of Secession.Lew’s
father, Franklin, was the youngest.In
that pre-war period he did not go to college but married a school teacher, Miss
Nancy Jane Humphrey, whose mother was a widow in good circumstances.Lew told how he loved to visit his
Grandmother Humphrey in her nice brick home near the Mississippi
River.She showed him the
cradle in which he was rocked, that she had stored in the attic.That was long after his Mother had died,
leaving him a three-year old and his brother four or five.His father had gone to war after that, also
his four brothers.Lew and his brother
Henry, two years older, went to live their Grandpa and Grandma Bradley for a
few years until his Grandma died.Their
niece kept house for them and Lew said that she as well as Grandma was so good
to them.After Grandma’s death, the
Grandfather went to live with his son John who was editor of the San Ventura
News in a town of that name in California.

Arrangements
had been made for the little boys to live with old friends of the family near Burlington, Iowa,
by the name of Lattie.They had come from Virginia and their family was all
grown.Mrs. Lattie
was very good to them but Henry didn’t stay long and wanted Lew to go,
too.Henry was always getting Lew into
trouble.Once he played hooky from
school and took Lew to play on the rafts in the river.Lew fell in and would have drowned if a man
had not saved him.They were afraid to
go home and stayed out until dark when they could sneak into the basement.Henry made Lew keep quiet and they soon fell
asleep.The neighbors and the police who
had been searching for them found them there.The boys were given their supper and put to bed.Lew wouldn’t leave Mrs. Lattie,
who was like a mother to him.After
seven years his father married again and they came for the boys.Mrs. Lattie would
not let Lew go, and his father did not insist since he was having such good
care.In the meantime Henry went to live
with his great Uncle Humphrey at the little town of Morning
Sun, of which he owned the greater part, as well as several hundred acres on
the Mississippi.Lew told me all of this one Sunday sitting
the shade of the cottonwoods with Mary and Lucy playing around us.

When Lew
finished High School he left Latties [sic] to seek
his fortune.Mrs. Lattie
wept and gave him $40 for his immediate needs.She begged him to come back before winter, which he did, and this was
the last time he saw her.He went to see
is great uncle but Henry had gone elsewhere by that time.His Uncle Humphrey like Lew and told him that
if he would go to Texas
for a year on a cattle ranch he would start him with a hundred head of cattle
of his own.But Lew was young and wanted
to make his own way.Years after we were
married an old friend of Lew’s who knew his parents and relatives visited
us.He told Lew how foolish he was to
leave relatives so well thought of and well to do; but Lew said that he was not
sorry as he found such a good wife, and that they could get along independently
of relatives.

It was when
Lew told me of his Mother’s death when he was but three and that he had never
known a mother’s love nor a sister’s love, that I decided to try to make up for
both.He told me how he went to school
at five, a spunky little boy who picked up swear words.One day he had been in a fight and
swore!His teacher called him to her
desk and said, “O Lewis, if your dear mother heard you what would she think of
her little boy? She was a good Christian and a fine lady.”He said he cried as if his heart would break,
as no one had ever spoken of his mother before and he never forgot it.His teacher, Milly Gibsen,
had been a good friend of his mother’s.

Since I gave Lew no encouragement he left for Denver. He thought that I would become interested
in one of the Irish Catholic bachelors. Those were lonesome months for me. What a surprise it wasthen to see him drive into the yard on the 27th of
January, 1884!He jumped off a nice bay horse. He had bought
a team and wagon, also farm utensils to begin farming.I was so
glad to see him, although I knew there was a big problem ahead. The children
were delighted to see Mr. Bradley. He began just where he left off, talking
about when we would be married. I could
not think about it as my sister Mary and her family were
coming out in the spring and Lent was close. I wrote to my sister in the convent telling
her about Lew and how much I thought of

him but could not think of marrying one not of my Faith,
as one's life work would be hard enough
rearing children right when both parents were of the some faith. Sister Evangelist wrote me telling me not to
be in a hurry but to join her in a 30 day prayer. This I did.

All the men
folks were busy with the contracts and working on ditches. Imagine my surprise
when the morning after the novena finished Lew came all beaming and happy,
saying, "Nell, I can be a Catholic! I dreamed last night that I had
joined the Church, and I was so happy.It wasn't at all as I thought it would
be. That feeling that I couldn't is gone
and I know I can be a Catholic". He went right to Grand Junction to see Father Servant. His
instructions began but were meager because of his work.He studied his catechism by the light of a candle
in his camp at night.Father Servant
liked Lew from the start and so our plans were made to be married when Mary
came. Although now he was to be a
Catholic I still prayed to our Lord Who alone knows the future - that if a1 soul would ever be lost by our union that it might
never take place. I asked that I might die first.

I wasso happy when Lew received the gift
of Faith and I thanked God [28]. It was truly my good sister's prayers. The worst was over I thought, not
knowing the problems and heartaches ahead, through misunderstandings and a lack
of tact on my part. I never thought of anything else and neither did Lew than that my little
girls would go home with me. My first disappointment wasthe delay in Mary's
coming. Lew said that he had made all
the arrangements for the wedding with Father Servant, and with the witnesses
for April 14, Easter Monday.Lew said that we
could then stay until Mary arrived. I
was very glad for that as I wanted everything as nice as possible when they
arrived. The house cleaning, which consisted of taking down the white lining on
the walls, washing and replacing it, also the little white ruffled window
curtains, was done. Everything looked
fresh and nice.

THE HAPPENINGS DURING THE SPRING OF 1884

Dear children, I would rather pass
over these few months for they were so pain­ful to me and fraught with misunderstandings
about waste ways, boundary lines, etc. Then
there was my own heartache in the disappointment over my plans for Mary and
Lucy. I thought of nothing but of keeping
them. LewIthought that Will would help him build an extra room for them. As soon asMary came we would
take them home and make them comfortable. Mary would have her six with the two stepsons
and Theresa, the little girl whom our mother reared since she was 18 months
old. Mary, as I told you, was delayed
again, and was to arrive on the day planned for our wedding. Then Lew told me
that he could and would become a Catholic if it could be after the wedding, for
it seemed that he was joining the Church to get the girl. I told him that those who taunted him were
without understanding and that we could not be married with a Nuptial Mass
unless he were baptized. So Law
consented. He was baptized on Holy Saturday and we were married on Easter Monday
at 9:00 o'clock with only the witnesses present [21]. Will had
only three days to finish his ditch and could not be there without forfeiting
his right. I explained that Mrs. Ross would care for the children while I was
gone the next morning. Will and Mike left
early the next morning and Lew took me to town. After Mass, Law took us all to the hotel for a
good meal, my breakfast and dinner for the others. After breakfast I want home with my bridesmaid, Mrs.
Chipman, and Lew and his best man, Joe Thomson,
stopped in town.They returned with two
pair of lovely kid gloves, one for me and one for my bridesmaid. As we left home that morning the sky was
clear, a bright sunny day, but on the way home there came a terrible downpour. The team could hardly face it. Lew tucked the robe all around me. By the time
we were home the storm had passed as fast as it had come and there was not a
cloud to be seen, only a lovely sunset. Lew
said it was a forecast of our lives, and that after the storms, would come a
calm bright evening of life. Such it was
for him, and I hope it will be for me. And how much we did get out of life and
how much we enjoyed each little darling who came to our modest but happy home. I heard a woman say that after she pronounced
her marriage vows she would give the world to be free again. Not so with your mother. The beau­tiful
service of the Nuptial Mass, the prayers, instructions and all made me very
happy. I knew that Lew would help me in the problems of life, and its future
joys and sorrows had no dread for me. I
began my household duties with great pleasure and took care of Mary and Lucy
until Mary got there. The first sorrow of my married 1ife
was when Wi11 decided to keep the children with him.

That summer passed happily and quickly. We rode horseback to Mass every Sun­day. My brother Jim in Pueblo sent me a side saddle which ladies
rode then. I made myself a riding skirt
and I felt very gay galloping off with my husband to Grand Junction and sometimes down the Valley
to Fruita to see friends.

THE FALL OF 1884

A school house for our district was being built and the
director or clerk asked us to board the teacher. I forgot to say that I was
hired the year before to teach in the first school in the Valley at Fruita. I could get no place to board where I could have Mary
and Lucy with me, so Hr. Hughes who hired me had to teach himself. It was when Lew was in Denver. Now Lew built an addition, a nice pleasant
room for the teacher, a Miss Faith Watkins. There had been some ill feeling
between two members of the board as to where the teacher would live. Mrs.
Slocum wanted to board her and they had built a room, too. However, Mr. Ross, the clerk, gave Law a
written order to get her. That winter
found me quite busy trying to fix something different every day for my husband
and the teacher. Miss Watkins, being a pioneer herself, was very easily
pleased. She had come overland in a covered wagon. It seems that when they had to stay a few
months in a village on account of Indian raids her mother would have school for
the children. One time when Lew was on
the Grand Jury the teacher would say, "Mrs. Bradley, don’t bather cooking,
we can have bread and milk." We had two cows and plenty of milk, cream, butter and
cottage cheese. I forgot to say that
that first year Miss Watkins taught the children in her room until the school
was ready. The next year Mr. Ross wanted
to board the teacher but she pre­ferred coming back to us.

Before
Spring I was, as Will Carleton put it in "Out of the Old House, Nancy,
Into the New", making clothes for neither one of us. These happy expectant
days had their worries, too. The
neighbor on the west was not willing that the waste way from the new ditch
should follow the natural course the water from the hills made in a southwestern
direction through our farm and part of the farm to the east and then through a
corner of his to the river on the west. He
insisted that where it reached his land between us that it should follow that
line to the river, even though a ditch would have to be dug all the way. The land was higher there and if the ditch
were dug it would let the river run back an our farm,
thus drowning us out. He would not
arbitrate or listen to reason but started work. Lew had to go to town and get
an injunction to stop them. A law suit was started at great expense. The German
blacksmith said, "Bradley, if you lose that suit you have lost out for
sure" meaning of course that Lew would be financially ruined. You can
imagine my anxiety for a week and especially the day of the suit, which was
Good Friday. How badly I felt and spent the day through 3:00 o’clock praying
for Lew. When he had not come home
that evening I did his chores and got supper, thinking he would come. Miss
Watkins insisted on staying up with me.It was after midnight that Lew came. They had stayed until the verdict
was given. It was in Lew's favor.The
cheering and talking afterwards made him solate. Foolishly
I thought something had happened to him on his way home.

The next two
months were busy ones, Lew with his planting and farm work, I sewing en pretty
little dresses for the newcomer whom we already loved. He came to bless our
home on July 3, 1885 [29].
Yes, your brother Joe first saw the light in a log cabin in GrandValley.
Somany of our
great statesmen were born, as you know, in log cabins. Wewere like twochildren
looking at his tiny fingers and toes. His name would be Joseph for the good St. Joseph, although it
was different from anyone on either side of the family.Lew was satisfied, for his friend and best
man at our wedding was Joseph Thompson.My folks would never understand how I could be happy

in such a lonely place.One Sunday was a bright sunny day. Miss
Watkins had put on my sunbonnet and gone away out in the field where she
discovered an old tree that served as a chair while she read her book. I was
surprised the next day to see my dear old Father, who had come West and was living with Mike's family. He had come to see
how I was as the children had said they saw me away down by the river crying.
They must have seen my sunbonnet, and they didn't come close enough to see Miss
Watkin's book.Lew and I were very contented playing with our little boy and plan­ning
for the future.

In the Fall wmoved all ofour buildings, our nice two-room cabin, a horse
barn and cattle barns and chicken house. We were settled and comfortable before
Miss Watkins returned. She thought our baby was wonderful and said it was too
bad. to waste that complexion on a boy. (Her own
wasn't very satisfactory at the time.) The winter passed very pleasantly. Once
when wewere in town Father Servant came to Lew and said
that he wanted to ride down the Valley with us.On the way he said, "Lew, I haven’t a cent to live on." Lew
answered, "Father, I haven' t much but I will
divide with you." He told us that he often went on one meal a day.Lew slipped a bill into his hand and asked
him to stay with us that night.Next day he went on down to the Sullivan boys' quarters where he
also was sure of help.

SPRING AND SUMMER Of 1886

That spring the Corcorans,
my sister Mary's family moved to their own home [30].Mike had
bought a farm three miles west of Grand Junction and wanted to start farming. They left little Theresa (Tessie, as we called
her), ten years old now, as she was so fond of Mary and Lucy.I often carried Joe through the fields a half
mile to see them.She learned to make
cookies, etc. from me and loved to come to our house. Will
found itvery difficult after the Corcorans left.He went to Denver
and told the priest there that he would like to get married again so that his
children would have a mother.Father
told him that he knew a fine Catholic woman who had come from St. Louis and he would have him meet her.
Both were agreeably pleased with each other and so after a short correspondence
she, Genevieve Daley [31],
came to Grand Junction
and they were married.Iwent to see her and
liked her very much.We invited them for
Sunday dinner and we had such a good visit.Will's wife thought Joe the cutest baby she had ever seen.From that time Aunt Jennie always liked Joe.

Another
incident of that summer was when Joe wassix weeks
old.I saw a carriage drive up MissWatkins, her sister with her husband, and a friend whom
they were showing the beautiful Valley of the Grand. They stopped to see me for
a few minutes saying they would stop for a longer visit on their return later.
You may be sure the laundry was quickly finished. Law killed two young roosters
and helped me with the cleaning as all the bedding was on the line. By the time
they returned everything was spic and span even the baby.Miss Watkins was so eager to see him and
loved to play and sing for him on her return in the Fall.It was pleasant having her but that winter
was her last as she went back to Montrose.Like so many of our early acquaintances she was lost to us. By the way,
the visitors that day said our pioneer dinner wasthe best they had ever eaten.We had chicken pie, mashed potatoes, sliced
ripe tomatoes, home made bread and applesauce.

FALL OF 1886

That
summer passed quickly. Jennie took good care of Mary and Lucy making their
clothes. I waslonesome not having the care of them. They still
loved their Aunt Nellie and wouldbe happy when Grandpa would bring them
to see me. Lew was Road Overseer and away a few days of the week on the road
with his gang of men, building, repairing, etc. The men of the Valley had voted
him in as Overseer. On September first he said to me, "Don’t do too much
today", as he kissed me goodby.Both thought that it might be awhole month before he returned. Lonesome as that made me I knewI had to do something.First I got
Joe to bed as 1 thought I could run to Will’s and be back. I started out but
thought I should go back. A cowboy offered to take a message for me. Back to
the house I wentand got into bed with the baby. He was happy and
contented with his mother beside him. Jennie was so

good and came immediately. She said, "Nellie,
what can I do? You are sick.”I said
"Only go home and send Will for Lew." While we were talking Lewcame in. It had rained so hard he had told the men
to go home.Howthankful I was! He got a nurse and then took Jennie home. Lew then went for
the doctor who came a little later and stayed all night, as did Mrs.
Christopher and Aunt Jennie.About 4 a.m.
they had a new baby boy to dress. He was a beautiful baby but was not to stay
with us for long. After the Methodist nurse had repeated the words of Baptism
after me and poured the water over his little forehead at the same time his
soul went back to God [32]. Papa and I held out hopes for a while but when the little moan stopped,
he did everything he could to comfort me. He said that I must think of myself,
of little Joe and of him, that our little darling was happy. The neighbors were
so good.Mrs. Slocum did up Joe's prettiest
dress, trimmed in lace, and when Mr. Slocum went to
town for the casket, Papa telling him to get the nicest one he could, he told
Joe Farrell about our loss. Joe told his wife (the Miss Sheedy
who came with the Corcorans to the West) to go at
once to Nellie, saying he would not let her go with the baby if it were anyone
else but the Bradley’s.Mrs. Farrell wassuch a comfort to me, staying two days after the
funeral. Those were lonely days after our little darling had gone to Heaven,
although I had Joe and his Papa to encourage me until I was up again and able
to do my work. Then the word came that Mrs. Chipman
was dead and had left a little boy and a little girl. She wasmy friend and bridesmaid so wewent at once to the funeral which wasat
the Church.When we got there I thought
my heart would break. Her husband who was not a Catholic had never let her to
go [to] Mass. Fortunately for the little ones her mother took them home with
her to Wisconsin
and they were brought up in the faith.

We began planning to move to town, as Lew saw it would take years to make
farming profitable in that place. Everyone who could was freighting to the new
town of Glenwood Springs, one hundred miles up the Grand
River, so we sold our ranches and bought a nice little cottage on
the opposite corner from our little Church.Lew knew what a comfort this would be to me when he wasawayon the freight­ing trips he planned.He bought two teams of mules, a suitable
covered wagon and a trailer which was another wagon without a top fastened
behind the other. His first load was on February 2.How happy I was to see him on his return! He
said, "0, Nell, if I only knew what those mountain roads were I would have
hesitated to go over them. On climbing some of the steep hills and nearing the
top and looking into space it seemed like the jumping off place. I said to
myself, I must go on, no room even to turn. Then, a little farther up the road
we turned around a huge rock and clung to the side of the mountain, slipping
down to a lovely valley.”So we moved to
our new home in Grand Junction
on the comer of Third and White [33].The next day Papa had to leave
with another load. He bought his own freight and made $200 each trip.
Everything had to be freighted a hundred miles over the mountains before the
railroads were built [35].

SPRING AND SUMMER OF 1887

Although
Papa had to leave on March 2, the day after moving into our new home, I was
happy and busy fixing the curtains, lanbrequins at
the top, so that everything would be spic and span when he got back. Just at
the time he said he would come, a day earlier than any other freighter, as I
stood at the back door watching, I saw the buckskin mules turning the comer.
How little Joe clapped his hands for joy to see Papa coming. That June was very
hot in Grand Junction
and Papa said, "0, Nell, I wish you could see how nice and green
everything is up in the mountains, the cool streams,” etc.I said, "Can't we go with you next
time?" He always stayed a few days to rest the teams. He said, "Yes,
dear, I think that you would enjoy it and we will take more time.”It was a critical time for me to go on such a
journey, three months before you were born, Bessie.Perhaps this had something to do with

the heroic courage you have shownin later years.It was lots of fun getting ready for the trip, packing the lunch box,
etc.We would buy bread, milk and eggs
at the ranches along in the valley.We
started bright and early that morning.I
enjoyed riding up on the spring seat with Joe between us.Wecamped
that evening in a ten-mile canyon about thirty miles from home and as many
miles to the next turn After a good
supper which Papa prepared over the campfire, he fixed my bed in the canvas
topped wagon. I was naturally tired from the long ride in a jolting wagon. I fell asleep. When I awoke the sun was shining, the birds
were singing and Joe was talking to Papa. Breakfast was ready by the fire.We thoroughly enjoyed it there under the
trees.Soon we were on our way again through
lovely valleys and winding slopes towards the river. At one place the road bed
was cut through a smooth slope.Riding
on a high spring seat and looking down that smooth slope of rock for hundreds
of feet would give a 20th century adventurer plenty of thrills.While the sun was still high the road wound
up a sloping hill. At the top was a pretty little grove of trees. As Lew turned
the teams in there I said, “What is this?" "Why?"He said "Mama, we are going to camp
here. You must not be as tired as you were last night.”We had a long evening and a good night's
rest.We didn't have any more thrilling
experiences except a few ravines where we went down so far to a log bridge with
the water many feet below it. Once the head team balked and refused to pull up
the hill. Papa knew they could, so Joe and I got out while he unhitched the
team and gave them a thrashing. One of them was like a spoiled child.As soon as Papa took up the reins, away they
went up the hill.Finally we came to
Glenwood Springs.Lew got out and
brought back Tom Keene, a blacksmith from Grand
Junction.We
were to return to his home with him while Papa took care of the business. After
a good rest for two nights and a day we started home.With no heavy load we travelled much faster
and along a level stretch of road I drove while Papa played the mouth
harp.We were grateful to reach home
safely. In July Lew finished his freighting as the railroad was finished into
Glenwood, and after a few weeks rest at home went

up into the Ouray country where he got a tie
contract for the railroad. However, before beginning that work he tried hauling
ore down Mt.Sniffles. His was not an ore wagon and
coming down the steep mountain the brake didn't hold.He saw it was going over the brink and quickly
pulled the leaders to the upper side while he jumped for his life.If the wheel team and wagon weren't stopped
by two big trees on a flat rock they would have rolled down hundreds of feet
into the river. One of his team was his big black horse "Major".He was lying on the rock with the mule above
him so Lew sat on Major's head to keep him from trying to get up. Ifhe had he would be gone.He held him
until twofreighters who were behind him got chains and
ropes with which they got the mule up and then the horse. He sold the horse for
$200 the next day.That finished ore
hauling.

A Denver man had the tie
contract and had hi red several men and teams to haul for him. Lew thought he
would try it, too. When it came time to pay his men this man went to Denver.Lew didn't like the way the man was acting so
he went to Ouray the next morning and wired the company at Denver to stop payment until he settled with
these men. The fellow was to leave shortly for other parts.They caught him on [sic] time or the men
would have lost their money. They were very grateful and glad when the company
turned the contract over to Mr. Bradley. All this time little Joe and his
mother were lonesome, for Papa thought he could be finished before winter. A
practical nurse was staying with me and everything was ready for another little
darling. When Mrs. Layton wrote to Mr. Bradley for me telling him of his little
daughter, she told him that he would have a letter from me within a week. You
can imagine how happy and proud he was to have a little girl baby. Bessie [34], I think you have the lovely letter he wrote, in
which he said her name should be Nellie. Of course I thought that our first
girl should be Mary after our Blessed Mother, and also Elizabeth. Papa was pleased with Mary
Elizabeth as he had a sister Bessie.I
thought we wouldcall her Bessie while she was little. For some
reason I did not improve.The doctor
said it was because my husband was away.However, when 1 was threatened with blood poisoning they sent for him at
once.Papa, thinking from Mrs. Layton's letter that all
was well, did not come the five miles to the Post Office until time for my
letter and to have the horses shod.When
he read the letter written a week before to come home he asked when the next
train would leave. He was told in five minutes. He ran to the shop and
told the hired man to take the teams back to camp for he was called home and
got back to the train on time. Looking again at the letter and seeing .that it
waswritten the week before he knew that I must be
better and breathed more easily.When
the train stopped at Montrose he had to buy himself a coat as he came from the
camp without one. You may be sure we were both happy when he reached home at
midnight - me to see him, and he that I was out of danger. I improved so fast
that in the few days he could stay I was able to be up and around.We were so happy over our little darling
daughter and Joe was very proud of his baby sister.

Although 1 had
more to do now to occupy my time still Joe and mother were very lonely when
Papa had to go back.I told him that if
he were gone very long we would come up into the mountains to see him.He said, "Alright, Mama, but I hope to
be through in a month or so." After five weeks he saw that it was going to
take longer then he had expected, to be patient, etc., which was very hard now
that I was feeling so well and the baby too.When a German lady, Mrs. Kiefer, the one I had said the prayers for the
dying for two years before, came to stay a few days with me in order to attend
the County Fair being held in Grand
Junction, I told her my plans to go to Ouray. She
said, "Do not plan to take the baby up into the mountains until she is six
weeks old[“]. I made the arrangements to leave the
house ready for rent if necessary and packed the trunk with changes for the
baby and for myself with enough dishes, etc. for camping. I wrote to Lewwhat Mrs. Kiefer had said telling him that now
Bessie was six weeks old and that I was coming.I missed getting his letter telling me what to bring, etc. just as I had
done.My good neighbor, Mrs. Farrell,
helped me, and her husband came in the evening and carried the baby to their
house where they said

I should spend the night until
twelve o'clock when the train would leave. They in­sisted that I lie down and
rest saying they would call me in plenty of time. This they did and had a nice
hot lunch ready for us.Matt, her
husband, carried the baby (while she helped me) to the depot which was but four
blocks away. On arriving we learned that the train wastwo hours late. It was very cold for the 21st of
October but there was soon a warm fire in the uncomfortable waiting room. When
the train did come a travelling man took my bag and Joe to the car. There was
plenty of room so I turned the seat over in front of me for little Joe to lie
on and the baby beside me. Joe went right to sleep when the train started, but
at each stop would sit up and

say, "Papa now?"When I wouldsay
"Not yet, dear", he would lie down and go to sleep until the next
stop.Before arriving, the man across
the aisle asked if someone would meet me.I said my husband would be there if he received my letter.He asked what I would do if he didn’t
come.I said that I would go to the
hotel and wait for him. As the train stopped he quickly came to assist me with
the children.All at once Joe screamed,
“Papa, Papa!” Lew had just come in the door with a happy smile on his
face.I didn’t see any more of the man,
but Lew knew him and thanked him.He
said it was a Mr. Wood, a big lumber man in that country and highly
respected.I forgot to say how
interested everyone in the car was in that dear cute baby who was so good and
looked around so brightly when I took her up in my arms.Papa was so glad to see us.He had rented a house in the Valley not far
from Verdans, where he got the bread, butter, milk,
eggs, etc. The owners were away for the summer.They told me one day that I had a husband to be proud of – how he went
to Dallas five
miles away after a hard day’s work to get my letters and how anxious he was
when I was sick.

It was a
lovely fall for nearly two months. Papa had his contract finished in time for
us to get home before Christmas but he had to wait for the Inspector from Denver to accept the ties.
The Inspector did not come until three days before Christ­mas.The weather turned extremely cold so when
Papa came home that day he said, "Everything is O.K., but
Mama dear, do you think that you could take the children in this weather that
long distance? It would take three days." I said, "My dear, hard as
it is not to go with you, for the sake of the babies I rust give up
going.”So we went to Verdans and Lew made arrangements for me to board with a
family until he got back. Some Catholic friends would take me to Mass at Ouray
at Christmas. They would take care of the babies for me in the meantime. That
night the weather mod­erated and in the morning the sun was shining and vie thought it would be warm enough

so I said, "O, Papa, let us go with you." He answered, "Alright, we will stop
early at some valley home." So we started off gaily as we put the baby
with Joe back of the seat in our bedding under the canopy while I sat up in the
spring seat with Papa.We began early in
the afternoon trying to find a lodging, but no one
wanted travelers when they were preparing for Christmas. So we wenton until wereached the Govern­ment Post, a few miles from Montrose. We thought surely
that there would be a hotel there, but we found none. The man told us that there
was a family that had their home while in the army, a Mr. Blue, and he showed
Lew the house. He could scarcely see it as it was getting so dark and very much
colder.While he wastalking with the woman at the door my poor baby began to cry with the cold,
and Joe who had been so good and brave now began to cry too. When the woman, God bless her, heard the cries of the little ones she
said, "Bring in these babies at once, they are freezing,”and they were. I held the baby close but was so
cold myself. I never felt anything nearer the joy of Heaven than when sitting
before a good fire and getting the children warm. The lady then told me that
they were going to the Christmas Ball at the Post, that they had eaten their
dinner, and then kindly showed the steaks and vegetables to me so that we could prepare for ourselves.Wewere glad to do it.How we enjoyed
that meal in that nice warm home. Of course we put everything away and washed
up the dishes. In the morning they gave us a good breakfast. They did not want
to charge us anything but Lew was very glad to pay them and they gave us a
hearty invitation to come again.

HOW WE SPENT BESSIE’S
FIRST CHRISTMAS

As
it was several degrees warmer and a pleasant morning wedrove to Montrose in time for dinner at the
Cottage Inn, a nice little hotel where we expected to stay over Christmas so we
could go to Mass.The landlady did not know about Mass but
asked the druggist's wife who was a Catholic. She
said that there would be no Mass in Montrose since the Father
from Grand Junction
had been there the week before.You can imagine our
disappointment but we decided to stay there since we could not get to Grand Junction
on time. So we did some shopping that afternoon and Christmas morn­ing started again on our homeward journey. Papa wanted me to stay there but I
again persuaded him to let us go with him but only after my promising to sit inthe back under cover with Joe and the baby. As a consequence when we got to Delta I was sick
to die from the closeness and could hardly hold the baby. The large building with a hotel sign proved to be
vacant except for a woman whose sister and children were visiting.They were in the midst of a big Christmas party. Lew said,
“You must let us stop as my wife is sick and the children are cold." She
said, "Come in," and helped me to a big easy chair before a good
fire, where almost unconscious I rested. Soon I could take some hot tea. Next
morning Lew said, "Mama, this settles it. Ihave
found a nice new hotel
near the depot. You will be comfortable there until tomorrow evening when the
train comes at 6 p.m. By ten o'clock you wi11 be
home, It will give me time to meet you there." Feeling quite subdued and willing to obey, I
stayed. Joe enjoyed running in the halls and was so cute that everyone liked
him. Just as we finished dinner the next
evening we heard the train whistle. The children and
the grips were ready and willing hands helped us to get to the station on time.
In a few minutes we were winding down the bank of the Guris River on the last lap of our home­ward journey after
a two months stay with Papa up in the mountains. Meanwhile he had hurried home, arriving in
time to get our good neighbor to help him put down the rug in the living room and
to set up a new parlor heater. Everything
was nice and the house warm when he rushed to the depot just as we arrived. What asurprise it was and how happy we were to be home
in our dear little cottage. "0, Papa,"
I said, "I never want to go to the mountains again." "Alright, Mama,
we will stay here!"

THE
SUMMER IN 1888 IN ASPEN

Our first summer in the SilverCity
brought us many disappointments which prob­ably were a foreshadowing of the
trials we would have there in the years to come. The very first contract Papa
got was with a bachelor, an old timer.When
Law wonted a written contract, Mr. Yankey, the
President of the mine, said, "Ch, no, it isn't necessary. I've known this
man for twenty years!" Law answered that he didn’t want this man to draw the money when
this work was done as he himself had the
greater ex­pense keeping himself and his teams while coming down the mountain
every night in order to be home with his family. Every morning he would drive
up again, bringing his

lunch with him while the other man boarded at the mine. The day the work was finished Papa went to the office again. Mr. Yankey had gone
to Denver. The
next day he re­turned to the office only to be told that Mr. X came the night
before and got the money to pay Mr. Bradley. Well, the man had gone with the money and
never returned to Aspen.
After wiring in every direction to no
avail, Mr. Yankeycooly [sic]
said that he would pay half of Papa's share. To get it through the courts would
cost more than he received so Lew practically had to accept, and losing halfof his contract money. The mine was
turning out $50,000 a month. Mr.
Duncan Wright, the cashier at the time, bought the mine the next year through
rich relatives in the East for a million dollars.

A few weeks after our first financial
disappointment Lew had n man helping him with some grade work on the street
near where he was building our house. The work was close to a four foot deep
flume which ran full and swiftly to the Power and Light house. It was the 26th
of June when the water was very high in the river near by. Lew had to go to town on business for a
neighbor. He had told the hired man not to allow the mules to step on top of
the flume as they would break through the boards hidden by the dirt over them.
Before Lew returned I heard screams and looked out. The man was
yelling for help and holding the
lines of one mule while the other was out of sight in the flume. Within a few minutes twenty miners were there
to help but did not know what to do. I saw Papa coming running. He told a man
to run and shut off the head gate. Then he quickly got chains and with the help
of the men and the one mule the fine big mule was pulled out on the ground but
it was too late as he was dead. Lew sent
for the overseer who told him that he would not collect one dollar on his $150
animal as the man was driving him when he got on the flume. If he had been
loose and got on himself they would have had to pay, as it was not safe. That
was the second loss but we had much to thank God for as a few
weeks later an immeasurable loss was
prevented. After the mule's drowning the water company had the cover taken off
and there was the water gushing at the foot of a little hill
below us. I had Joe

wheeling Bessie in her buggy on the other side while I was getting dinner.Joe came in and said, “Where is the
buggy?”I ran to the door just in time
to see it starting down, but a tent rope had stopped it or she would have been whirling down the
flume. You may be sure that nothing else was thought of that night but our
happiness in thanking God for our baby's being saved. Lew shortly afterwards
got the contract for covering the flume, thereby making $100.

The summer passed quickly and I
was so interested watching the carpenter build our new home. Lew saved a lot by
helping as the cost of labor washigh at that time. The house was ready for us to
move into it by October 10 and how happy we were to have
such a nice comfortable home. Lew was busy starting a wood yard. He bought a
wood machine for $40 and spent as much more in making it over. Then he sent to Denver for a circular saw,
after which he bought 100 cords of wood up in the mountains, five miles up the
Roaring Fork. It was cut in logs and a chute built to bring it

down. The machine was ready so there
was a great pile of logs in a vacant lot back of the house by early spring.
Wood, which was in great demand, was ready to sell.

1889

During all of these past months I
was preparing for the little expected one who arrived on March 6, 1889. How happy we were to have another
boy! [36], Joe now had a little brother again
and Bessie loved to come to the bed to see the little baby. She was so sweet
and good about the new arrival! Having such a good nurse I got along very well,
and our little darling was so well and strong that in a few weeks we could take
him to Church to receive the holy sacrament of Baptism. Now he was a child of
God and had two good patron saints, Louis and Francis, to pray for him in his
spiritual needs. That spring I was busy fixing up our new front yard with
flower beds, etc.In July, the raspberry
season, some people hired Papa to take them to the east fork of Snowmass Creek.
In the sloping valley between two mountain ridges covered with raspberry bushes
loaded with luscious fruit was their destination. It was eleven miles from
Aspen over rough mountain roads until you came to the last big hill where the
road zigzagged down to the Creek, then for a mile south through the prettiest little
valley to the east fork, a small stream trickling down the mountain and tumb­ling
into the mother stream.Up that east fork was where the
berry pickers went.Here they would camp
for a few days.A mile up the main
stream was a little mining prospect.A
company was running a steel drill at a point on a mineral vein which had
been discovered to contain gold.While
Papa was there he made some observations of the district and found that the vein they
were working crossed Snowmass Creek and up to the East Fork right through the
berry hillside.He saw that it was the
same for­mation and he traced itto the top of the ridge where it made a sharp turn to the south. Right at
that point he marked the place to sink a shaft and then hired a man, George Papn [sic], whom he knew in Grand Junction, to help him do
the work. Ten feet down Papa gathered some of the dirt and sent it to Denver to be assayed.It was 20% gold. While this was low grade he
knewthere was a big vein of it. He
felt so good about it that he told a Mr. John Goodwin, a real estate man, whom
he thought he could trust, all about his find saying that he would make him an
equal partner if he paid for the assaying and would help him with the
work.Mr. Goodwin gladly consented and
talked so enthusiastically one evening at our home.For some unknown reason the assays were never
as good as the first ones.At that time
their mutual friend, Mel Carr, bought a small interest for $50.$25 wasall that Papa ever got out of it.Mr. Goodwin said that they had better not
sell any more. A few mornings after this Papa called me to the window.
"Mama," he said, "see that man just
going out of sight on horseback?” It was a man equipped with a prospecting
outfit and with snow-shoes as there had been a fall of snow.Mr. Goodwin has sent him out there without my
knowledge to make further locations which would give him controlling
interest!Papa was sad for he had
thought Mr. Goodwin a man of principle.Then he added, "They will be disappointed as according to Goodwin's
instructions they will locate straight ahead at that point where the vein turn
south." This proved true and Mr. Goodwin dropped the enterprise saying
anything further about it.Papa was glad
to be rid of such a partner.He felt
sure that the ore was there waiting for future development.The property where the steam drill was
working had been patterned by the company.Soon they took the drill and left.

1889 and 1890

Conditions became worse in the
mining industry [37]. The
mines in Aspen shut down and people had to move away by the hundred. Their
deserted homes could not be sold. The banks, with
the exception of one, closed as did many business houses. Everyone who could was leaving, but Papa thought it only a
temporary depression. He had faith inthe future mines at Snowmass and
so bought the ranch which comprised that pretty little valley at the foot of
the mountain. It was the only place for a town site when the mines were
working. I was happy inplanning for a little Church where the children
could help me with the decorations. The wild flowers were so beautiful and
colorful, especially the Colorado
columbine. I would take care of the Church as did my Aunt Catherine indear
old Pennsylvania.

In June, 1890, with hearts full of joyful hopes for the future we
got ready to move to Snowmass to live in a log cabin again as we had in Grand
Junction seven years before [38]. We rented our nice comfortable house and with our three children, baby
Louis being only fifteen months old, started on our journey to our new home. I
was happy and courageous until we reached the top of the divide where we could
look down into the valley so far below. The thought came to me that I could
never come up that moun­tain to go to Mass and I began to cry. Papa was so worried
and said comfortingly, "Mama, if you don't want to go we will go home. I
want you to be happy." He stopped the team and we talked it over. He said
that we could come to town frequently. I said, "Lew, I won't go back and
leave you to do this work alone. It was only the first view of Snowmass that
made it seem so far away."So we
went down the winding road into the valley
of Snowmass to live in
the little cabin. Bessie, three years old, having heard us talk of Snowmass,
waved her little hand gracefully on our arrival, saying, "Is
this Snowmass?" To her mind it was not what she expected. Her older
brother Joe who was five was much interested in all his new surroundings. He
soon found many things to show to his little sister and baby brother - the
birds' nests in the trees near the house, and the little saucy chipmunks which
would run up the trees and squeak at them as if scolding them for disturbing
their solitude. The birds seemed to be singing to us. We soon had a garden
planted in the rich soil and there were the two cows that came home every
evening to be milked. The corral was about a block from the cabin.Little Louie would toddle along with us on
the path to take care of the cows.My first great worry about the baby was one morning
when Joe, Bessie and I went to the garden to get some vegetables. The baby wasasleep when weleft but when we returned he wasnot there. I ran everywhere looking for him, even
down to the river bank. Snowmass Creek was so large we called it a river.
Nowhere was he to be found. It was beginning to get dark and we were afraid we
could not see him. Then I saw Papa coming with the cows at the far end of the
road. I screamed and waved my arms frantically to hurry as Louie was lost. He
rode as fast as he could to us as he could not hear what I was saying. We both
ran again in every direction and soon found Louie asleep in the tall grass half
way down the path. In my fright I had over­looked him,
He had come to look for us when he awoke. Being still sleepy he lay down in the
grass. How we thanked God, as the bears and wildcats were liable to come down
the mountain at this time of the year.

1890 (continued)

That summer
Papa took us to town for a visit with a good neighbor. As Mr. Man­ning, her husband, was waiting for a new lease he went back with Lew
and Joe.The morning we left home as we
put the three children on blankets back of the seat there was a jolt and Bessie
put up her little hand. It was caught under the seat. The nail on her thumb was
torn off.I thought we couldn’t go, but
Papa ran to get bandages and Vaseline.He tied it up saying we could see the doctor when we got to town.The darling child was so patient, but I held
her on my lap all the wayin. She was so good and soon
fell asleep.We had no further trouble
with it as Ifollowed
the direc­tions of an experienced old lady. I had a most enjoyable visit with
the privilege of going to Mass every morning.When Lew came to take us home and brought Mr. Manning with him, wetook Mrs. Manning and her two little girls home with us as they had never been up in the
mountains.My friend wasborn and raised in Philadelphia and we enjoyed her remarks about
everything so much. They spent a happy week with us.

I was very happy and contented in our little
country home until Christmas was drawing near. Then I longed to be in town for
that happy season. So Papa decided

that we would go for a couple of weeks.We could live in one of our vacant cottages, as our house had been
rented to a good tenant.I did all of my
Christmas baking as

we would have but a small stove.On
December 21st we were ready to go. As there had not been enough of snow for
sleighing in the valley but too much over the Divide we

had to go downto the mouth of the Creek about twelve miles to
the little town of Snowmass where the creek
flowed into the RoaringForkRiver.There wecould get on to the highway to Aspen
about twenty-five miles away. It was a long ride on a cold December day
but wewere happy when we got
there.Papa got a good fire going
quickly and wegot
warm.The house was not as warm as our
log cabin and the children all had colds and were sick. So we had to stay all
winter and could not get back until April.Papa wentout to the
farm a fewtimes and then drove the
cowsto a neighbor who offered to
take care of them with their own. We went back the long way as the road was
still impassable. We had to transfer to a sleigh when we were two miles from
home as the snow was still so deep. Soon the warm days of May melted it awayand Lew began his Spring
work.

SPRING OF 1891

The principal and first thing we had to do was to
pick out a new site about a block from the county road to build our new house
on.Lewworked on it between times as he was busy with his
spring work, gardening, etc. By July 1st we were ready to move into our nice
large cabin with full sized windows and a glass panel in the front door. When
the walls were lined with canvas, the curtains, rug and other furniture we
brought from town in place you may be sure I wasproud of our little home in the mountains. After that the days passed very
quickly as I was busy again preparing for another little one whom wealready loved and who arrived on the morning of
the 21st of July [39].How sweet she looked when the nurse put her
in my arms in her soft white muslin dress. I can see good old Doctor Robinson
yet as he leaned back in his rocker and laughed heartily, saying, “The old
bachelor whom your husband sent for me said there wasno hurry!”No doubt the man thought of the bucket of fresh buttermilk just churned,the line of clothes
and the kitchen floor just scrubbed. Since there was nothing for the doctor to
do he went fishing and caught the biggest trout we ever saw in Snowmass.He was delighted whenhe sat down to dinner. Then taking another look at
me and the baby who was fine, our good Doctor Robinson left us. How proud you
were, Bessie, over your tiny baby sister! How you loved her!Louie, too, would come with you to the bed to
see the baby.He wasn't jealous in the
least that he was no longer the baby.Although our little darling was so littleand expanding like a flower I was not able to ride
in a heavy wagon over a mountain road the eleven miles to town to have our
precious treasure baptized for seven whole weeks.Finally on the 7th of September we went and
stayed all night to make arrangements, godparents, etc. On the morning of the
8th, our Mother Mary's Feast and Bessie's 4th birthday, our little Helen
Evangeline received the waters of Baptism which made her a child of God and an
heir to the Kingdom
of Heaven.I prayed that she would never forfeit these
precious gifts. I didn't get to Mass and Holy Communion again until Christmas
as we stayed on the ranch that winter. Papa went in on horseback nearly every
Sunday.

WINTER
AND SPRING OF 1892

We were very comfortable in our new
home in SnowmassValley in the shadow of the mountains
and we enjoyed caring for our four darling children. Joe, Bessie and Louie
loved to play with and help take care of little sister Helen.When the children were asleep during the long
winter evenings, Papa read aloud while I sewed and mended, except when he was
sick. He had his first bad spell with his heart [40], and there was not a neighbor
for a mile on either side of us.At
those times I would put his feet in a bucket of hot water for this seemed to
relieve him.However, in the Spring he was much better.I often thought his illness was part of God's plan for us that we might
live closer to the Church and where our children would have the privilege of a
Christian education. For that reason I prayed and hoped that we would not spend
another winter in Snowmass. Otherwise our home was peaceful and happy with
plenty to supply all our temporal needs. Papa had a good start in the cattle
business with a range for miles on the mountain slopes where hundreds of cattle
could pasture in

the sun
all winter.It was an ideal situation and Papa was eager to remain there in­definitely.
That wasone time I
opposed my husband's plans, arguing that life was too short to spend it where
we could not practice our holy religion, and where our little girls would grow
up to be called "cattle queens", riding the range.What would become of their spiritual life in
such an environment? Papa argued that he might not be able to make a living for
us intown.My life was so full of hope and promise that
I answered, "0, Papa, that could not be. Even so,
if weare poor
our children wi11 be good and God will help us when we try to serve Him."

FALL OF 1892

So we began our plans to move to town in the fall as we were expecting an
addition to our little family. This required a lot of government expense and
delay as our homestead had not yet been proved up on. It would now have to be
committed to cash entry, paying the Government $1.25 per acre. We could raise
the money only by mort­gaging. This could be easily done as the crop was so
good and everything was so well kept as the agent saw when he had dinner with
us. The money we had after paying for the land went to build a little home in
town.It wasbut the cost of materials for

Papa who had had
some experience inbuilding did the work himself
while we were

living in
a rented house. It was in that rented house on North street that our prec­ious little Leonella[41]first peeped intothis big world on that bright
Monday morning, December 12th, the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Yes, our new
darling was strong and well and just as cute as her two brothers and sisters.
The children loved to watch her yawn and stretch in the nurse's arms. Papa
always wrote to my sister, Sr. H. Evangelist, about each newcomer. This time he
asked her to suggest a name. That is how we named her Leonella.My sister wrote that the Sisters had a good
laugh when they read my letter telling how Father Pitival
had at first refused to give that "unchristian name" even after I
told him that it must be a saint's name because it is a Sister's name.With a happy thought I said, "Father,
her grandmother's name is Margaret.We
will call her Leonella Margaret." He said,
"That's a good saint’s name. Call her Margaret.”

WINTER AND SPRING
Of 1893

As soon as the
weather moderated Lew bought two lots for $500 on West Hallam St.

This street was
the principal avenue of travel and was later made into a highway running all
the way to Grand
Junction.It was a nice location and Papa began build­ing
a home again in Aspen.We were ready to move on March 6th, Louie's
fourth birth­day. He had his first pants and waist that day and was so happy
not to be a girl any­more that he ran and played. This was to be our winter
home where we could go to Mass and the children could go to a Sisters' school.
Joe went for only two years and Bessie for one. It was too cold for her to go
the first year. Then a sort of depression came and the sisters had to
leave.When Joe went to the Public
School his problems on the blackboard were so neatly done.His teacher, Miss Smith, asked him where he
had gone to school for he did his work so well.He said, “To the Sisters.”Miss
Smith replied, “You had good teachers.”

SUMMER OF 1893

Our plans were all made to go to the ranch in the
summer where wee could
raise plenty of vegetables for winter use.We could pack enough butter and eggs too. It would be lovely for the
children to be out there in our dear little valley home for the summer. Papa
could go to Mass nearly every Sunday on horseback and Mother once or twice
during the summer. "Manproposed but God disposes." That very first summer Papa had
the shingles as the doctor called it. He was very sick for several weeks and
the children got diphtheria. Bessie had it in its worse form, hemorrhages of
the nose, etc. which the doctor had a hard time stopping. It left our little
girl para­lyzed for three months. She could neither talk nor walk. So we never
got back to the ranch.

WINTERS OF ’93 AND ‘94

That winter the ranch was jumped. Two people who
wanted it moved on and took possession of our house, hiring lawyers to write
the Government that wedidn't
return to live in it in compliance with the law. Papa wrote to Washington a direct
state­ment of how we had lived there for three years but had not been able to
prove up be­cause of a mistake in the surveying which delayed our filing nearly
two years. He said we were obliged to move to town for the children to go to
school and that we fully intended to go back the next year but sickness in the
family prevented our doing so.Lew
received an answer promptly telling him that he should have his ranch and that
those people had to leave. This they did but not until they had destroyed
everything they could indoors and out. They broke the stove and took everything
out of the house and smashed the mowing machine. Papa said that he didn't know
whether we could ever go back now but that the ranch had to be saved for the
mortgage company from whom wegot
the money and not for those men who had no right to it.

SUMMER AND FALL OF 1894

We
had more sickness in the Spring and I wasnot very well myself as another child whom we
already loved was expected in the Fall.We could not think of going then and Papa had a contract hauling timber
for a mine. He had been quite well until the last week in September when he got
typhoid fever. He was very ill for three weeks before Frances
was born and that seemed to be the beginning of our hardships.Our Lord took me at my word that I would
rather be poor and be able to go to Mass than rich incattle so far away
from Church.Upto that time Papa had been a very good provider
and manager.Even when his fever was 105
degrees he would not stay in bed, saying, "Mama, I cannot be sick now when
you are, as I must take care of the children."He soon was not able to get up. Though he had
been very ill for two weeks on that lovely autumn Sunday, October 21st, when we
were presented with our fourth daughter [42], he crept into my room to rejoice with me over
the sweet baby girl.WhenJoe, Bessie, Louie and Helen were told at a
neighbor's that they had a baby sister they all came running home to see the
baby.They were so excited and during
the next few days would watch eagerly when the nurse had her on her lap, to see
the little pink fingers and toes.Little
Leonella wasjust as happy to see her little sister since she was now a big girl going
on two years old.I, too, was happy that
God had spared Papa's life to take care of his dear little family. Papa was so
anxious to get out and be doing something that the next week he worked in his
shop making a closed cover for our dairyman's milk wagon. From an open canvas
cover it had panelled [sic] sliding doors.Mr. Christopher, our milkman, was so proud
of his up-to-date wagon.A farmer had been caring for our team. Papa was
very anxious toget the home for he would then
start again on his contract hauling logs for a mine. The weather turned cold
and stormy and Papa should not have been out that day and the next. The other
haulers did not go but Papa was so ambitious.That night whenhe came home after wading knee deep in snow all day he was so cold and chilled
I could hardly get him warm in bed. The next morning when I was getting
breakfast for the children he got up and called me into the living room.
"Mama," he said, "I am divided in two, my left side and limbs
are all stiff." Although he could walk he had such a queer feeling. I sent
for the doctor at once. The Doctor said that he thought the muscles were
chilled from the cold but that he would recover in time. That wasthe end of Papa's teaming or much
of anything that winter. He was never the same again and what made it harder
was that when he seemed to be well he had no ambition to do anything except a
little carpenter repair work for a real estate man who asked him [43]. He also hauled a load of logs
for wood for some of the neighbors. We still had twocows from the ranch and I got customers for milk near enough
for Joe and Bessie to carry it. I told them that the dairyman could go all over
town but that little children could not. The milk was sogood we had no trouble selling it.

1895 AND 1896

These good conditions did not
last.The A.P.A. Movement wason. They went through the town
like wild fire to destroy, if possible, everything Catholic. Such force was
brought to bear on our customers that they quit without warning. Several wood
customers also cancelled their orders. I tried to sell cream but had to go so
far from home to get any orders. These were not regular and it didn't pay to
keep the cows. We sold one and kept the other for a while to have milk for the
children and for a couple of small customers nearby. This didn't pay so finally
we had to sell our little Jersey that we liked
so much. Then I began making mince meat which I continued for three winters
with more or less success. There were plenty of orders around the holidays and
that was about all.

SPRING AND SUMMER OF 1896

That Spring Papa got a couple of
carpenter jobs through a friend, Mrs. Welsch.We were happy to have the lovely spring days
again and thanked Gad that our dear little family were so well after a long
severe winter. I never enjoyed the beauties of nature so much, the birds
singing in the trees, everything so nice and green, the
flowers budding, as on that beautiful fifth of June, the month of the Sacred
Heart, when He sent us our fifth and last darling baby girl [44]. She brought an added blessing

to our home and had the same sweet
charm which made the whole household love her at once. She was such a dear good
baby. Mrs. Welsch, our good friend who first held her
before the nurse arrived in the morning, said that she could have held her all
night as she was so sweet. Her sister Frances loved to stand by my bed and look
at her tiny baby sister. One evening when the nurse had her ready for bed she
told her to go now to Mama to say her prayers. As she ran across the room in her little white gown and her golden hair flying loose
the nurse said, "Look, Mother, doesn't she look like an angel?”Before long the baby could look at her and
smile so sweetly.

All the children loved to watch her and fondly touch the
little pink fingers and toes.When she
was two, my niece Rose Hines (my sister Mary' s
daughter) with her little Zita came to spend the
summer [45], with us in the mountains. Aspen
nestled among the Rockies.Zita was eighteen
months old and such a lovable baby.Her
little words were so birdlike and she could only walk around the wall holding
on to something. When Papa came home for dinner he would lie on the sofa for a
little and Zita would slide around the room saying
quietly "Papa".Nellie would
run across the room to

him and say "Mine Papa!"
Papa would take them both into his arms and play with them. I forgot to say how
our little girl got her name.Papa said
that this one should be Nellie after her mother.There was to be a big parade for the Fourth
of July and Papa, always so very patriotic, wanted us all to go to see it.Not
wanting to take the baby out before she was baptized I asked Father Pitival if he would please baptize her on July 2, Feast of
the Visitation, instead of Sunday. He smiled and said, "All right.”,_So on the Feast of the Visitation our darling was made a child of God with
the name Nellie Bernadette.

FALL AND WINTER OF 1896 and 1897

As our temporal resources grew smaller Our dear
Lord gave us strength to adapt ourselves to existing conditions and to get ell
the happiness possible out of the things He gave us - good and healthy children
who loved their home and their games as much or more than those children who
had more of this world's goods.The
older children loved to read the Young
Catholic Messenger and Sunday afternoon we had an hour of reading, stories
and instructions. In the winter when they couldn't play outside Joe would line
them up for a word contest which the children always enjoyed. On Saturdays in
the stormy weather they would work hard all forenoon helping me to get all the
work done. Joe would assign each one their part of the work and make out a
report card for each one. They were as anxious to get good marks from him as
they were at school.In the afternoons
they would play store. Each child had his own house in some corner and had to
go to Joe's store to buy their goods. He made paper money giving each some to
begin with but whenit was over he
had all the money. The children were happy over their purchases and the
bargains they made. They would then put everything away where it belonged -
dishes, pans, cooking utensils, every­thing. Sunday was always a very happy day
going to Mass and to Catechism, then reading until dinner which they knew would
be something extra for Sunday. And so things went on very happily if not very
financially successful.

1897 - 1898

After being disappointed in some more contract
work Papa washappy in the prospect of
managing a co-op store which had just failed because of inability to run itproperly or successfully. It was established by
the Knights of Labor who were very strong at that time. Papa never belonged to
any other organization and he was the secretary of this one. A meeting had been
called to discuss the advisa­bility of closing the store as it was proving
unprofitable. Papa advised that they wait for a couple of weeks in order to
give anyone who wished to propose a new plan a chance to do so.He himse1fhad learned a great deal about co-ops in Utah
from a Mormon who worked for us in GrandValley.The plan he worked out waSthe best they
had offered and Lew wassure therefore, that he would be
given the management of the store. The former manager had received $60 a month.
The only other man who offered a plan was the local butcher who said he would
take it for $60 a month. Then Papa told them he would manage itfor $40 a month plus one-fourth of the profits for
one year. Alas, when they found out that that Catholic, Mr. Bradley, was the
only one who claimed he could make a success of it they simply closed down the
store and sold out. Again Papa suffered persecution on account of the prejudice
stirred up by the A.P.A. movement. My heart ached for him in this
disappointment.

WINTER
AND SPRING OF 1899

There seemed nothing that Papa could do under
these unfavorable conditions. We were expecting another little darling to bring
blessings on our home. It was the coldest, hardest winter we had ever
experienced and it often required all the courage and fortitude we possessed to
carry on. Two weeks before the baby came I had a bad spell of the “grip"
as it was then called. I thought it a better name than the "flu” for it
gripped the entire body.On February 6th
I felt well enough to sit up.I sewed on the machine for two or
three hours making a nightgown.A
neighbor came that evening and said that I would be sick again.She was right for at midnight Papa had to get
the nurse who lived only a block from us.It was fortunate that she could come immediately as Mrs. Juett had already engaged her, but Mr. Juett
came for her in two hours and we had to call in another neighbor. The doctor
came the next morning through a blinding snow storm. That night was the coldest
we had had when at nine o'clock our baby boy was ushered into a bleak world [46].Happy for him he knew nothing about it and like his sisters before him
waxed strong and well despite the weather outside. All the children were just
as happy over the darling "teeny" baby as if he were the first
instead of the ninth and last of the novena. Sister M. Evangelist had written
to me saying "Nellie, isn't this the end of the novena?"His brothers and sisters would stand around
in admiration as the nurse bathed him, lightly touching the little pink toes.
His big brother Joe, now fourteen, took off his shoes and stockings to show
that his big toe was the size of the baby's whole foot. The next week Joe and
Bessie came down with the Gripp [sic] and the very
day I got up Papa had it too.I was like
an old lady, feeling so weak and shaky, as I heated a mustard plaster for Papa.
There waswork to be
done taking care of the sick and the baby, but thank God all recovered. It was
only a few weeks until the weather moderated and spring was in the air. The
first robins were hailed with delight. The children were so happy, saying,
"Now we can soon go out and play" as the snow was going fast.

I knew that Jesus looked lovingly
on our little family. He saw then how each one would help in the spreading of
His Kingdom on earth either as religious, as three little
girls would, one even in a pagan land, or in providing Him with Priests as Joe
would do, and with another religious sister as Bessie would, as well as
sending forth Christian leaders in Home and Country.

1901

The winter of 1901 was hard
financially. Only when it wasbelow zero
could Papa get a day’s or even a night's work keeping the ice out of the flume
at the dam a mile up Castle Creek. How glad he was to be earning something. The
children would watch the thermometer to see if it wasbelow zero so Papa could go. They
never thought how cold it would be for him, for they saw how happy he was to go.

SPRING Of 1902

Finally the long cold winter was
over, How happy as usual everyone was on the first
approach of Spring.On Sunday, the first
day in March, whenPapa and I
came home from Mass, the children were running around the yard on the hard
crust of snow singing, "S ring is here!" On Louie'
s birthday, March 6th, little Nellie said, "I can pick roses on my
birthday.” Her birthday would be June 5th. On March 19th when I came
home from Church she said, “Mama , this isn't our
home." I said, "Nellie dear, Papa and I were talking of going to the
Northwest, but this is still our home."With a wave of her little hand and speaking very sympathetically she
answered, "I didn't mean this home, Mama. Heaven is our home. We are here
only for a little while.”For her it was
only a little while, for on the 28th, nine days later, she was in Heaven where
she would be picking roses on her fifth birthday. It happened so sudden­ly. A
fewdays after
our talk about Heaven Bessie came home from school quite sick.We thought it but a cold or a little
indigestion and gave her the usual remedies.The next day when Papa came home she was sitting wrapped up in the
rocking chair. He saw at once that she had temperature
and said, "Mama, we must send for the doctor." Joe went quickly. When
the doctor came he thought as I did that it was but a cold.He said that he would return the next day.Little Nellie helped Mother so well that day,
dusting as she had seen her sisters do.She had never been sick not even with the measles when the others had
them. The next morning when the children were dress­ing Nellie cried, saying
that she was cold.I told Joe to wrap
her up on the rocking chair and I would be there in a minute as I was putting
up Papa’s lunch before his leaving for work. Joe said, “Mama, Nellie is
shaking.” I never saw anyone have such a chill, her teeth were held
tight and she looked at me so distressed.Even when we got her in bed with hot flatirons about her she wasstill cold. I send Joe for the doctor, for as the
chill passed she seemed to collapse. I was frightened and took her up in my
arms, then held her on a pillow on my lap until the doctor came.He first wentto the bed to see how Bessie was
and found that she had scarlet fever.I
said, "Doctor, this child needs your attention more now”. On examining her
he thought that she too was getting it. In the evening there was no rash on her
although Bessie was covered with it. Nellie seemed to be choking. The Doctor
gave her some medicine and she lay quietly.Next morning we were quarantined and Papa and the boys had to live
across the street. The Doctor said it was all right that Nellie had not eaten
anything, just lying there, but now he said we must give her some nourishment.
She could take nothing. Papa brought her a pretty little box to see if she
would notice it. She smiled and held it. That evening she said her stomach
hurt. The Doctor told me to put on hot applications. Once in changing them she
dropped her box and said, "My box." I picked it up for her and as I
was going back to the stove for another hot cloth, she said, "Thank you,
M-a-m-a." That wasthe last word she ever said. I thought she had fallen
asleep. At midnight as I was dozing near the stove.I thought she called me but when I went to
her quickly I saw that she was dying. How could I leave her to call Papa!I knew that I must, and waded through the
snow that had fallen and piled up so deep in the blizzard. I tapped on his
window calling him to come quickly that Nellie \'13S dying. He said, "O, Mama, run back, I'll be there in
a minute."He was, with only one
shoe on. Picking her up and holding her close to the stove he said, "Mama,
give her the medicine." I was holding her on my lap when the Doctor came
but he could do nothing. She lay there just breathing for 48 hours. On the
second morning her temperature went down. At 6 a.m. she breathed her last while
all the children with Papa and Mama whispered prayers for her or to her to pray
for us in Heaven where she had gone so peacefully. She looked so sweet and
happy.The Doctor did not know that she
had a ruptured appendix. Our darling just lay there and died because God wanted
her in Heaven [47].Her big sister Bessie wasspared to help Mother with the
other children. She was indeed a comfort to me for many years until her dear
sisters and brothers were old enough to take their share of the work. Nellie's
little two year old brother, Frank, seemed to miss her
the most at first. If he fell and got a bump he would run to her when Mother
was busy and the children were inschool.
She would kiss him and console him.

Mrs. White, our good friend, came as soon as she heard
about Nellie's death.

She helped me to dress Nellie in her pretty white dress.
I tied her two little braids with blue ribbons on each side of the forehead as
I did when she was living. Mrs. White called her two big brothers and said,
"Boys, look at your angel sister and never do anything that would make her
ashamed of you." I always felt grateful to her for that. She was so
good-hearted and she told me once that she would like to be a Catholic but knew
that her family would be so opposed to it.

The day of Nellie’s funeral a
change came over Joe.From a school boy
of 14 in the first year of high school he became a man
and insisted on going to work to help our finances. Papa had had a long sick
spell and was not able to do the work that was available at the time. Joe went
to the sawmill and got a jab at ratchet setting. It
was hard and dangerous too as he had to ride in the moving frame which carried
each big log to the saw. It was a big circular saw with such sharp teeth that
it could cut a board in a few seconds. Joe had to turn the log for another
board and

so on. In the cold weather the
danger of slipping was alwaysthere.We were not

very happy to have him give up school
to do this but he worked there for two years without an accident. Our dear Lord
answered our prayers for his safety.

1902

Business was so dull in the summer 0f 1902 that the mill closed down for two months [48]. Mr. Koch, the owner, offered to send Joe out in
the country with a crew of men working in the timber. I wentto Mr. Koch and asked him if he could give Joe
halftime work so that he could stay
at home. At first he was indignant, saying that he offered it because Joe
wanted to work.I told him that Joe did
need a job but if he could work half time he could continue his studies at
home. He was surprised to learn that Joe wastaking a correspondence course in electrical and
mechanical engin­eering.Whenthe Vice President of the Scranton Extension
Course came to examine his work he said to me, "Mrs. Bradley, when a boy
works ten hours a day and does this kind of excellent work at night, it isthe kind of advertisement we want.”Mr. Koch then gave him work at home for the
summer.

1903

The next summer times were still difficult.Joe succeeded in getting work on a big ranch
in the country. The overseer became interested in Joe, telling him that he had a brother in Harrison, Idaho,
and of the marvelous opportunities there were in the Northwest. The year before Papa had received the New Year's edition of
the Spokane-Review from a friend. It
pictured graphically the Spokane of the future
with its good schools and churches, its wonderful source of electric power from
the waterfalls of the SpokaneRiver which ran through
the city. Papa wasvery
interested and we hoped that he would be well enough to go in the Spring and prepare a place for us. However, he finally
decided to stay in Aspen, so Joe and Louie had
both worked another summer. Joe was eager to go that winter. He must, he
thought, if he was to carryon the work he wanted to
do.Reluctantly Papa gave his consent
and the preparations were made and finished by Christmas Eve, trunk, ticket and
all.

On
Christmas morning the overseer with whom Joe was to travel sent word that his wife was
not willing for him to go. That was a terrible shock. It seemed too
much. To see Joe undertake such a journey was hard enough but for him to go
alone was un­thinkable. There was nothing else to do since Joe's heart was set
on going and everything was ready. Our Christmas was very happy under the
circumstances, early Mass, a good breakfast. The children enjoyed the Christmas
tree and were so happy to have their big brother for Christmas even though he
had to go the next day. The Christmas dinner was especially good and Bessie
helped me fix up a lunch basket for Joe to cheer him on his way. He packed it with turkey sandwiches, fruit cake,
doughnuts, cookies and oranges. It was a nice wicker basket with a handle
across the top and a lid securely fastened.Wefilled it in with candy. Our
loneliness had to be concealed under forced smiles as we bade him goodbye at the little
station a few blocks from home.Helen, Lola
and Frances had to stay with Frank who was not yet five and had a bad cold. The
chill in the heart more than the sub-zero weather was almost unbearable - to see
our dear boy going away from us into the night and

not knowing what his destination would bring. He would be a stranger in a
strange land. At Mass that morning I had begged our Lord to take care of
Joe.Before leaving the Church he knelt
with me before St. Joseph's
altar to ask his good Patron to guide him on his way. How we all missed him at
the table and everywhere. How long the days were until time for hearing of his
safe arrival in Spokane
on December 29, 1903 [49].He gave us his address at the Kaddack Hotel on Riverside.
Already he had started to look for work but met with refusals everywhere. He
would write every night of his disappointment and then would say, "But
don't worry, Mama. I will get something soon.”When we didn't hear for a few days I would be sure that something had
happened to him. After Mass one morning I went into the rectory to see Miss
Bryant, Father Hickey's housekeeper. She was so kind and would say, "Don't
worry, only have a Mass offered for him. He will be all right." I followed her advice and the next day
Papa came home from the Post Office waving a letter from Joe. It was from Elk, a lumber
town, forty miles north of Spokane.A former superintendent of the mill there was
staying at the same hotel as Joe. He became interested in Joe and told him that though the mill was
shut down for the present he could get something to do while waiting, as they
were cutting cord wood. Joe went at once and although it was the hardest work
he had ever done, pulling one end of a crosscut hand saw with a big strong
Swede, he stayed at it until the job was done.After five weeks he could just pay his board and room with twenty-five
cents left. While there he got acquainted with Leonard Wald, shipping clerk for
the mill when it was running.Waiting
for it to start again, Leonard and his companion batched in their cabin. They
were friendly to Joe and Joe spent most of his evenings with them. On the day
he wrote, Leonard received word from a Mr. Anderson whom he had worked for on a
big farm near Mead, asking him to send one of his idle men to help on the
ranch, feeding and caring for cattle, sorting vegetables, etc. Leonard asked
Joe if he wouldgo. Joe said he would go on the first train which would be going through at
3:00 a.m. He gave Joe all the instructions, where to get off, even making a
little map of the place, the field through which he had to go and the perch on
the side of the house where he should knock. He also gave him a "gad"
-a tin can
with a candle in it, to help him find the way. The boys in Colorado
used these when skating at night. When the engineer slowed up the train the
next morning Joe jumped and almost buried himselfin a snow bank.He pulled himself out and finally got to the house.Mr. Anderson came and said they needed
help.He told Joe that there was no work
on Sunday morning except to feed the cattle "and at ten o'clock you will
harness the horses, hitch up the carriage and go with us to church." Joe
said, “Mr. Anderson, I shall do as you say in getting things ready for
you.Then 1 will go to my church in Hillyard as I am a Catholic.” He walked the four miles in
deep snow to Mass and did this every Sun­day he was there. God blessed his
future work and Mr. Anderson always held him in highest regard, inviting him to
his home long after we all came to Spokane. I forgot to say
that in his first letter Joe wrote, “Mama, that was a very good lunch you

gave me.It lasted several days in Spokane. I just had to buy a bowl of soup to
go with it as I wasafraid
my money would not last until I could get work. There were so many dozens of
idle men around who could not get work.”

SPRING OF 1904

At the end of March Joe again
turned his face to Spokane.He must try again to get work in the machine
shops and again continue his cherished course in E1ectrical Engineering.His first letter said that there was no
chance yet and that it was just as dark and gloomy overhead too as it had been
all winter.Oh, for even one day of Colorado sunshine, but
as it wasHoly Week
he would attend the services. His Easter greeting was his first cheerful
letter. He said that on Wednesday of Holy Week the clouds finally lifted and
the sun shone brightly going down in golden splendor on the beautiful horizon.
Clouds and discouragement were gone and he had a glorious Easter that ninth of
April. The next day he turned his attention to a big planing
and shipping lumber mill. The foreman took a liking to him and hired him even
though there seemed to be no vacancy. Joe liked his work in those planing rooms among the piles of freshly planed lumber. He
decided to stay there and work up to a better position.

It had also been a trying winter
at home. The older children, especially Bessie, Louie and Helen as well as myself were living in the hope of going to Spokane at the end of school. Of course we
were sure that Papa would go with us so I found a nice old couple who would
rent the house furnished. Papa had a good garden of vegetables. To my surprise
and sorrow when they came to make the final arrangements Papa almost broke
down, saying he was not going to leave our home nor should I and the children.
How could they follow Joe into a strange city, etc.He promised that I would see

much better times next winter and if
not we would go the next year. A whole year to wait!When I wrote to Joe that his father was not
willing for us to go until next year he wrote us the nicest letter saying that
it must be for the best. Since Papa was not willing he was afraid that he would
never be satisfied. Then, too, Bessie was to graduate the next summer and it
might be better for her to finish there at home.The year would soon pass and we would all work together for a happy reunionthe next June.

1905

Louie was almost inconsolable as he had counted
the days until he could go with Joe. So sure was he of going that he didn't
take the city herding of cows in the Spring.Now the only thing for him to do would be to
work in the lumber yard. It was so hard for him, a slightly built boy of
fifteen to stand on a lumber pile and pull up big heavy plank boards handed to
him by a big stout man for ten hours a day in the hot weather. All the other
boys were swimming, etc. Bessie had worked for a nice lady the summer before,
helping her with the children and so on. She liked Bessie but could not afford
to have her for the summer as before. It was a hard year as Papa could get so little work.He was very discouraged. We knew we should plan to go when school was
out.Bessie graduated on the first day
of June with a class of six girls and four boys [50]. A nice program was prepared for the evening of
graduation. Bessie gave the Valedictory. Everyone said she did so well and that
she was the most graceful and the prettiest girl on the stage. Her dress was
the sheerest Persian lace with a beautiful lace bertha which set it off so
well.

We were practically ready to go as Joe had sent us
money to help. Bessie and I had the sewing all done for the children, the
dresses for the girls to travel in, etc. Then Papa again refused to go, saying
that it was foolish to let the children decide to leave our home. The older
ones could go and come as they liked. I knew full well that there was nothing
in Aspen to
come back for. Joe had been in Spokane for a year and a
half, and had a good position for a boy of his age. Bessie would have to get a
school and we knew that Louie would get work in the mill where Joe was the
shipping clerk. Even dear old Doctor Robinson came and tried to talk Papa into
going, saying there was no future for the children in Aspen.Our Pastor said it was the only thing for us to do and that if I were
firm he was sure that Papa would go with us. It was a painful duty for me to go
ahead with our plans. Joe had rented a nice house, hav­ing everything in
readiness for us when wewould arrive. He had bought the necessary furniture
and kitchen equipment.

DEPARTURE

Those were sad days, packing trunks, boxing
souvenirs of other days and putting the house in readiness for Papa. We left
him his ticket so he could join us in the fall. Aunt Annie had given us a
generous donation as a contribution for the expenses of our trip. It made my
going a little easier when Papa said that he and a member of the High School
faculty were going prospecting for gold during the latter's vaca­tion. Papa
knew where to locate a gold-bearing vein on a distant mountain. They had talked
for hours the night before we left.

In the morning as the time arrived to go it was
only our dear Lord who helped me to do what I never thought I could. I shall
never forget Helen, a slender girl of fourteen, clinging to Papa at the train,
sobbing so hard and saying between sobs, "Papa, don't let it be long until
you come, will you?" All the children were crying and Bessie was trying to
help get them settled in the train. It was the most painful hour in my
life.We had wired Joe when to meet us
and I had written to Aunt Mary that we would not stop over in Grand Junction but to meet us when the train
stopped.She and her son Aust did meet us in their three-seated family carriage, saying
"You must come home with us as you cannot go on because of fire in the Utah line." Of
course the children were delighted. The Corcorans did
everything possible for our comfort and happiness.We had to wire Joe of the delay. Next morning
we were told we could go by noon as the railroad company had built a track
around that small end of the mountain right on the edge ofthe river. Ours wasthe first train over it and it did make me a
little nervous. The children were all so good and we were spared the trouble of
taking them into a diner as Aunt Mary had prepared a large basket full of a
good chicken lunch.It was surely good
of her and typical of Aunt Mary as all of us knew.

Towards
evening on June 12, 1905 we had our first glimpse of Spokane[51]. There was
our Joe watching for us. How very happy we were at the sight of him! After the
embraces he saw to our baggage and then took us to 2118 N.
Addison whore a lovely hot dinner awaited us. Mrs. Clark, a good
neighbor, had come to Joe's assistance in making ready for our arrival. Joe was
just as jubilant as we were and so proud to show us our rooms with the beds
made and everything provided for our comfort. How wonderfully thoughtful was my
nineteen-year-old son!From our front
walk wecould
see the entrance to GonzagaCollege. We lived at 2118
for less than two years. It was a rented house and we thought it better to pay
on a new house than to lay rent. As soon as the house on
the corner of Baldwin and Astor was built we bargained for it.So 327 E. Baldwin
was our address until our children were grown up. The
fact that our boys could attend Gonzaga and our girls HolyNamesAcademy compensated for my many
disappointments. Papa's letters came regularly. He waslonesome for us but still clung to the
hope of getting returns from his investments.Twice he came to see how we were situated, but returned to Aspen.Your Mother went back to Aspen one summer to help him put his affairs
in order so he could return with me at least by the next spring. Reluctantly he
acquiesced but my hopes were dashed when he said it would be but for a
visit.However, the last three years of
his life were spent with us [52]. It was a great blessing, for he was a sick man and never lived to return
to Aspen, as
you know.

*********

This finishes the chronicle of Grandma Bradley's
life as she wrote it when she was: in her eighties.Exactly forty years from that June 12 that
the family arrived in Spokane, she was laid to
rest beside Papa in FairmountCemetery, 1945.Editor's Note: You can visit the Fairmount Memorial Cemetery site and find Nellie and her husband Lew [misspelled as "Louis"] in the surname listing there in the same plot. Edward Kelly makes an interesting speculation about the listing of his birth name as "Louis" as opposed to "Lewis", his birth name of record. His speculation is that the misspelling may have been by design. Nellie and her three daughters who were Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary may have wanted to make his birth name "Catholic" by saying that it was "Louis" rather than "Lewis." There is a St. Louis (King Louis IX of France) after all, but there is no St. Lewis! As we may recall from Nellie's memoirs, Lewis Harding Bradley converted to Catholicism before his marriage. His birth name was Lewis and that did not change at his baptism as a Catholic nor in Nellie's memoirs! This is perhaps a case of "Regis Kelley" in reverse. Regis, a second cousin once removed to Ed Kelly and Bob Sweeney, apparently wanted to make his surname sound "Protestant" by adding the second "e" because the "Catholic" version was assumed in America to be Kelly. The Towanda, PA Daily Review obituary for Regis' mother, Bridget Frawley Kelly, in 1955 spelled her surname as Kelly and not Kelley. In the 1913 records of Campbellville school on the Sullivan County, PA Genealogy Project web site, Regis' surname is spelled as Kelly like all his cousins attending the school that year. Notwithstanding Regis' addition of a second "e" in his surname, there are Catholics in Ireland even today who spell their surname as Kelly or Kelley!

ANNOTATIONS

1.James Kelly came to America from County Cork, Ireland
in 1842.

2.James Kelly worked at Green’s
settlement near Dushore,
Pennsylvania.

3.James Kelly married Johanna
Flynn, sister of William Flynn.There is
no additional information on the Flynn Family, except for the account by Irene
(Leahy) Coveney reproduced on pages 65-67 in Helen
Elizabeth (“Bessie”) Beirne’sIn the Beginning…..On page
66 thereof, Irene states that Johanna (Flynn) Kelly’s brother, William Flynn,
migrated to Lowell, Massachusetts.This source is a privately published history
of the Kelly family’s early days in Pennsylvania
written by the granddaughter of Daniel and Mary (Leahy) Kelly via their
son Daniel J. Kelly and his wife Ella (Hannon) Kelly.

4.Johanna Flynn ** came with her
mother, three sisters and two brothers from CountyLimerick, near Cashel, Ireland.** Editor's Note: In April 2009, Edward Kelly provided the following additonal information on the Flynn family:

When the Flynns Came to Sugar Ridge, Overton Township, Bradford County, PA

I am indebted to History of Overton (1810-1910) by Clement F. Heverly for the information immediately below.
John Flynn settled on the former John O'Connell farm on Sugar Ridge in 1852. John's brother, William Flynn, settled on the former Callahan farm which was adjacent to the former John O'Connell farm. The Heverly account states that John and William Flynn sold out some years later. The Heverly account states erroneously that both John and William Flynn moved to Minnesota.
Irene Leahy Coveney, a daughter of Francis P. and Catherine Dorsey Leahy, a granddaughter of Patrick and Ellen Flynn Leahy and Patrick and Margaret Cain Dorsey, wrote in the 1950s her history of Sugar Ridge which is included as an appendix in Helen Elizabeth (Bessie) Kelly Beirne's In the Beginning. Irene Leahy Coveney indicates that John Flynn migrated to Minnesota and that William Flynn migrated to Lowell, Massachusetts.
Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley, daughter of James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, wrote in her memoirs above that she went to her mother's relatives in Lowell, Massachusetts in 1882 for the purpose of learning the millinery business. Presumably, her mother's relatives are the family of William Flynn.
The Heverly account also indicates in an appendix that Johanna Flynn died on June 27, 1860 at age 73 and is buried at SS. Philip and James Cemetery, Sugar Ridge, PA. Johanna Flynn is the mother of John and William Flynn and Johanna Flynn Kelly, Mary Flynn Leahy, and Ellen Flynn Leahy. Johanna Flynn is my great, great, great grandmother.

[On page 63, Irene Leahy Coveney states also that her

grandmother, Ellen Flynn Leahy, is a
native of parish

Knocklong, County Limerick, Ireland. Her parenthetical

reference to Cork is inaccurate.]

[Irene Leahy Coveney's account on pages 41-42 of the arrival of

her grandparents, Patrick and
Ellen Flynn Leahy, in

Pennsylvania appears to be based on
family folklore rather than

fact.]

[Johanna Flynn's name is
omitted from Irene Leahy Coveney's

account on pages 65-66. Johanna
Flynn's name is omitted also

from Helen Elizabeth (Bessie)
Kelly Beirne's account of James

Kelly on page 32.]

[Irene Leahy Coveney's account on pages 65-66 indicates also

that there were four Flynn
sisters and two Flynn brothers.]

[Based on dates in Irene Leahy Coveney's
account, Margaret Flynn Moore may have been a niece rather than a sister of
Ellen Flynn Leahy, Mary Flynn Leahy, and Catherine Flynn Keefe Cusick. It appears that Irene Leahy Coveney
may have substituted inadvertently the name of Margaret Flynn Moore for that of
Johanna Flynn Kelly. There was little accurate information known about James
and Johanna Flynn Kelly and their family until recently. Johanna Flynn Kelly
died in 1882. James Kelly moved West by 1885. James and Johanna Flynn Kelly's
sons and daughters left Pennsylvania
by 1884.J

[Irene
Leahy Coveney is the daughter of Francis and
Catharine Dorsey Leahy. Francis Leahy is the son of Patrick and Ellen Flynn
Leahy. I assume that Ellen Flynn Leahy and Johanna Flynn Kelly are sisters.]

[Edward M.
Kelly is the great-grandson of Mary Ann Leahy Kelly. Mary Ann Leahy Kelly is
the daughter of Thomas and Mary Flynn Leahy. I assume that Mary Flynn Leahy and
Johanna Flynn Kelly are sisters.]

7.
James Kelly's daughters, Mary, Johanna, and Ellen (Nellie), studied at St. Joseph's Academy, Binghamton, New York
that was operated by the Sisters of St. Joseph.

[St. Joseph's Academy was
established in 1862 and destroyed by fire in 1912.] .

8. James
Kelly's daughter, Johanna, became Sister M. Evangelist of the Sisters of St.
Joseph.

[Sister
M. Evangelist entered the Sisters of St. Joseph at Troy,
New York on May 18, 1872, professed her
religious vows on August 25, 1875, and died at Marquette, Michigan
on October 2, 1900.]

9.
James Kelly's daughter, Ellen (Nellie), was a candidate or postulant of the
Sisters of St. Joseph, but withdrew from the religious community in 1881. Ellen
(Nellie) returned to her parents' home on Kelly Hill near Overton, Pennsylvania and cared
for her sick mother, Johanna Flynn Kelly.

10. James
Kelly's wife, Johanna Flynn Kelly, died on February 22, 1882.

11.
In autumn 1882, James Kelly's daughter, Ellen (Nellie), went to her mother's
(Flynn) relatives in Massachusetts
where there was an opportunity for her to learn millinery.

12.
On February 20, 1883, James Kelly's daughter, Ellen (Nellie), received a letter
from her brother William in which she learned of the death of William's wife,
Ellen Sullivan, a native of Pennsylvania herself.

13. William
Kelly with his wife Ellen and two children, Mary and Lucy, left Kelly Hill near
Overton, Pennsylvania for Leadville,
Colorado in 1882 and then GrandValley
near Grand Junction, Colorado, where the Ute Reservation had
opened for settlement. [Editor's Note: See corrections to this part of the story at end of text.]

14. On
February 22, 1883, Ellen (Nellie) Kelly left Massachusetts
for New York and Pennsylvania.

15. On March
22, 1883, Ellen (Nellie) Kelly left Pennsylvania
for Colorado.

16. On March
25, 1883, Ellen (Nellie) Kelly arrived in Pueblo,
Colorado where her brother,
Michael James Kelly, lived.

17. On April
4, 1883, Ellen (Nellie) Kelly left Pueblo, Colorado for Grand
Junction, Colorado
where she arrived on April 6, 1883.

[George
Streby'sHistory
of Sullivan County, 1903 states that Dennis Corcoran, born near Quebec, and Mary Mahany of County Cork, Ireland, came to Sullivan County,
Pennsylvania in 1843 and are Michael Corcoran's
parents.]

19.
In spring 1884, Mary Kelly Corcoran and children come from Kelly Hill near
Overton, Pennsylvania to join Michael Corcoran
in Colorado.

20. William and Lucy Kelly sold their farm to
Michael and Mary

Kelly
Corcoran in 1881, with the provision that James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, the
parents of William Kelly and Mary Kelly Corcoran, would make their home there,
have their needs taken care of, medical and otherwise, and receive a money
allowance for personal use.

[Papers
in Edward M. Kelly's possession indicate that James and Johanna Flynn Kelly
conveyed their farm near Overton, Pennsylvania
in Sullivan County, Pennsylvania to William Kelly, their son, and William
Kelly's wife, Ellen, for $1,300 in 1877. William Kelly and his wife Ellen (Sullivan)
conveyed the property to Michael Corcoran and his wife, Mary Kelly Corcoran,
the daughter of James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, for $2,000 in 1880. Michael and
Mary Kelly Corcoran conveyed the property to William P. Kelly, Edward M.
Kelly's paternal grandfather, for $4,000 in 1883.] [Editor's Note: See further corrections to this part of the story at end of text.]

23. Aunt
Catherine had a son who became a priest and three daughters who became nuns.

[See
page. 66 of Irene Leahy Coveney's account. The son of
Daniel and Catherine Flynn Keefe Cusick is the
Reverend Daniel Cusick who was ordained in 1882 and
died in 1887. The daughter of Daniel and Catherine Flynn Keefe Cusick is Annie Cusick known in
religious order as Sister M. Ambrose, IHM, who died in 1915.]

[See
page 66 of Irene Leahy Coveney's account that states four
daughters of Dennis and Catherine Flynn Keefe became nuns. There is no
information available on them. Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley's account that her
Aunt Catherine had three daughters who became nuns may be more accurate. If so,
there are two, not four, daughters of Dennis and Catherine Flynn Keefe who
became nuns. Their names and the names of their religious communities are
unknown. Catherine Flynn Keefe Cusick's other
daughter who became a nun is Sister M. Ambrose, IHM.]

24. Michael
James Kelly, son of James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, was thrown from a horse when
young. The Sisters of Mercy in Towanda, Pennsylvania got holy water from Lourdes, and Michael James Kelly was able to
walk for the first time in three months. Later, Michael James Kelly fell from a
barn roof, and his father sent him West.

[The
Sisters of Mercy arrived in Towanda, on September 8, 1877 from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The incident described above by Ellen
(Nellie) Kelly Bradley must have occurred after that date.]

25.
Ellen (Nellie) Kelly said that she had not seen her brother, Michael James
Kelly, for 15 years when she arrived in Colorado
in 1883.

[This
statement contradicts Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley's other statement that she
was present sometime after September 8, 1877 when her brother, Michael James
Kelly, was able to walk for the first time in three months. Alternatively,
Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley may have attended boarding school at St. Joseph's
Academy in Binghamton, New York beginning in 1868 and saw little or none of her
brother, Michael James Kelly, after that date.]

26. Mary Kelly Corcoran arrived in Colorado in 1884 with six children, two
stepsons, and Theresa or Tessie, the little girl raised by Johanna Flynn Kelly
from 18 months.

[Presumably, Michael Corcoran was a widower with two
sons when he married Mary Kelly Corcoran. There is no information known of the
parents of Theresa or Tessie, the little girl raised by Johanna Flynn Kelly
from 18 months.]

27. James
Kelly came West and lived with Michael and Mary Kelly
Corcoran.

28. On April 14, 1884, Ellen (Nellie) Kelly and Lewis Harding
Bradley were married. Before the marriage, Lewis Harding Bradley, a native of Iowa, became a convert to Catholicism after instruction
by Father Servant in Grand Junction,
Colorado.

30. In spring 1886, the Michael and Mary Kelly
Corcoran Family moved to their own home, a farm three miles west of Grand Junction, Colorado
and left Theresa or Tessie, now 10 years old, with William Kelly.

31. Genevieve (Jennie) Daley came to Grand Junction, Colorado
from St. Louis, Missouri in 1886 and married William Kelly,
son of James and Johanna Flynn Kelly.

32.
In 1886, Lewis and Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley's baby died.

33.
In autumn 1886, Lewis and Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley moved from their farm to
Grand Junction, Colorado.

43.
In winter 1894, Lewis Bradley was sick. This illness marked the end of his
teaming and much of anything else. Lewis Bradley was never the same after this.
Even when he seemed to be well, Lewis Bradley had no ambition to do anything
except a little carpentry repair work.

50. On June 1, 1905, Lewis and Ellen {Nellie} Kelly
Bradley's daughter, Mary Elizabeth {Bessie} Bradley, graduated from high school
in Aspen, Colorado.

51. On June 12, 1905, Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley
arrived with her children in Spokane, Washington from Aspen, Colorado. Aunt Annie gave them money for the
journey.

52. Lewis Bradley remained alone in Aspen, Colorado until ill health forced him in 1926 to join his
wife, Ellen {Nellie} Kelly Bradley, and their family in Spokane, Washington.

Editor's Note: Let us quote Ed directly in a message of January 25, 2009 to Bob Sweeney, the administrator of the Sullivan County Genealogical Web Page:

Papers in my possession indicate that William S. Kelly and his wife Lucy (sic) purchased the farm of Will's parents, James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, on Kelly Hill, Forks Township, Sullivan County, PA for $1,300 on April 21, 1877. On March 11, 1880. William S. Kelly and his wife Lucy (sic) sold the farm to Will's sister Mary and her husband Michael Corcoran for $2,000. On October 16, 1883, Michael and Mary Kelly Corcoran sold the farm to Mary's first cousin and my paternal grandfather, William P. Kelly, for $4,000. According to Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley's account, Michael Corcoran went to Colorado in October 1883. Michael Corcoran's wife Mary and their children joined him in the spring of 1884. The Corcorans were among the first white people to settle on land formerly the Ute Reservation near Grand Junction, Coloardo.
Based on the information summarized below from papers in my possessions, it would appear that William S. Kelly and his family moved from Pennsylvania to Colorado in 1880. Will's daughter Lucy was born in Colorado and baptized there in August 1881. Thus Will and his family did not move West in 1882 as Nellie's commentary states.
According to Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley's account, Will sent her a letter in March 1883 in which he informs her of his wife Ellen's death. There appears to be no basis for the statement that Ellen Sullivan Kelly's death occurred one month after the birth of her daughter Lucy. If that were true, Ellen would have died in September 1881. Since Will Kelly wrote the letter to his sister Nellie in March 1883, it would appear that Ellen had died only recently and certainly not in September 1881. According to Nellie's account, Will's daughter Mary was not yet three years old and Will's daughter Lucy was one and a half years old in March 1883. We know that Lucy was born in August 1881. According to Ken Beirne's Index, Will's daugther Mary was born in February 1880.

53.Here is a partial genealogy for the
relationships involving the Kelly and Bradleyfamilies discussed here:

** Editor's Note:Jubilee, 2009 is published by the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary, 2911 West Fort George Wright Drive, Spokane, WA 99224. According to this release, among the sisters celebrating jubilees in 2009 was Sister M. Ellen Joan Duffy, SNJM, celebrating the 60th year of her religious profession. Sister Ellen Joan is a great granddaughter of James and Johanna Flynn Kelly, a granddaughter of Lewis and Ellen (Nellie) Kelly Bradley, and a daughter of James and Mary Elizabeth (Bessie) Bradley Duffy. The Inland Register, published by the same order, includes a picture of Sister Ellen Joan, which is reproduced here, from its July 2009 issue.